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The Thistles of Mount Cedar 


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In the Garden of Mount Cedar 



The Thistles 
of 

Mount Cedar 


A Story of School-Life for Girls 


By Ursula Tannenforst//. 


Illustrated 


THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA :: :: :: :: 1905 




ftiBRAHTof JONGHEbS 
Jwo Oopitts riecwveu 

JUN iO (905 

vupyriKiii £.11(0 

<i\J>&%(j(X AXc. Nw 

///$. f ^3 

COPY B. 



Copyright 1905 

THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO. 
Entered at Stationers’ Hall, London, 1905 
All Rights Reserved 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. page 

1 . A Ne:w ArrivaIv 9 

II. The Young Foreigner 19 

III. Memories and Noveeties. 35 

IV. Marching Aeong 51 

V. A Bad Saturday 72 

VI. A Bad Sunday 90 

VII. Consequences 117 

VIII. Uncertainty 142 

IX. PeANS AND Peays 1 59 

X. Suspense 173 

XL Expectation 186 

XII. Fueeieement 198 

XIII. The Ceoister in the Forest 219 

XIV. Pride AND Vaingeory 238 

XV. A Most Prickey ThisteE 261 


7 


8 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP. PAGE 

XVI . Vl^RE^NA^'s VaGARIE^S 280 

XVIL Our Ne:w Scotch Thistle 299 

XVIII. An Escapade 312 

XIX. A Comedy oE Errors 327 

XX. Adventures 345 

XXL Margaret's Inspiration 355 

XXII. Bottom and Titania 373 

XXIII. Thistle-Down 386 

XXIV. A Terrible Mistake 394 

XXV. Mischiee 404 

XXVI. Unexpected Varieties 420 

XXVII. A Phantom Masquerade 437 


fpl^e ^l^istles of Mount (Jedar 


CHAPTER 1. 

A NEW ARRIVAL. 

‘‘/^^IRLS! Thistles, where are you hid- 
I j ingT’ cried a merry maiden of fifteen 
as she ran in the afternoon sunshine 
along a wide, flag-paved walk leading towards 
a summer-house at the farther end of the 
grounds of Mount Cedar Seminary — a suc- 
cessful institute for turning out strong, healthy 
scholars, if this one might be taken as a speci- 
men. She was tall, perfectly proportioned, 
full of buoyant vigor, with broad chest, bril- 
liant complexion and column-like throat. Her 
features were regular, her mouth large but 
finely cut. Her clear, dark gray eyes looked out 
over the blossoming garden and the wide view 
beyond with a calm, steady gaze of quiet satis- 

9 


JO 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


faction arising rather from animal spirits than 
from any especial heed of the lovely prospect. 
Eich, wavy, light brown hair, turned back from 
her forehead with a comb, hung upon her shoul- 
ders. Her simple dress was worn with a certain 
stylishness. Swinging her broad hat in orze 
hand, she stood a moment, glancing ba^.k 
towards the tall gray school-building, with its 
widespreading wings, upon the hilltop; thim 
called ‘‘Girls again, and, receiving an 
answer from some distance, ran on until she 
reached the summer-house, occupied by a groap 
of pupils assembled during the afternoon recess 
for the ostensible purpose of reading aloud ; but 
their book lay unheeded on the table, while a 
dozen merry voices were busily chattering, dis- 
cussing and contradicting each other. A gen- 
eral exclamation of ‘ ‘ Cornie Freeman ! ’ ’ greeted 
the newcomer as she appeared at the door. 

“I thought I should find you!’’ panti^d 
Cornie, smiling. “Why didn’t you say you 
were coming here, and save me the trouble of 
hunting for you? Now, Fanny Fox, just please 
tell me what you are grinning at.” 

These last words were addressed to a slight, 
dark, roguish-looking girl of about Cornie ’s 
age, whose piquant features were convulsed by 
a suppressed titter as she rex)lied, in a would-be 
solemn tone: 

“Why, of course we never dreamed of ask- 


A NEW ARRIVAL. 


U 


ing you to join us. We knew that you wouldn't 
need us Thistles now that Kate has come back. ' ' 

^‘Such nonsense!" Cornie went on, in her 
strong, clear voice. ‘‘As if I didn’t want a 
share in all that’s going, whether Kate is here 
or not! Besides, she’s busy enough with that 
new girl, showing her everything — she looks as 
if she came from foreign parts, poor little mite, 
I’m sure!" 

A laugh greeted this observation, and the 
dark-eyed, espiegle-looking Fanny Fox ex- 
claimed, “Poor Cornie, she’s jealous! She has 
lost her old friend, so she has come to us. Walk 
in, dear, and we’ll comfort you." 

“Thank you," said Cornie, standing still, 
“but I prefer to guard the door. And you all 
say yourselves that I don’t know what jealousy 
means; and, as for losing Kate, it is good fun 
to see her doing the honors of the place like 
a model girl. She wanted me to help; but I 
thought the new arrival would thrive best with 
one of her own small size, and " 

“Tell us about her, Cornie — her name, and 
age, and so forth," interrupted several eager 
voices at once. Two or three elder girls took 
up their book and made a vain effort to restore 
silence; but Cornie, looking roguishly impor- 
tant, went on : 

“Her surname is Forster, and her Christian 
name, or, at least, all I can remember, for she 


J2 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


is half foreign, and has ever so many, is some^ 
thing strange — Verena — and Kate says she is 
past fourteen, though, like herself, she looks 
about ten. Her father was an American, a 
civil engineer, who went to Hungary on busi- 
ness, long ago, and married a Hungarian lady 
for his second wife. Verena ’s mother and her 
twin brother both died when she was only six; 
so she was sent to a Moravian school in Ger- 
many for three years and then to some Hun- 
garian seminary, where she stayed until her 
father’s death, more than eighteen months ago. 
Then her troubles began again ; for she was left 
to the guardianship of her half-brother, more 
than twenty years older than herself, a country 
doctor, who lives in a gloomy old house in 
some out-of-the-way place, and who sent for 
her very soon, because he has some notion 
about wanting to make her into an American. 
But you can see that she will always be a for- 
eigner; and she bewitched our romantic Kate 
at first sight, as I told you, when she met her 
during her heav^^ Easter visit to her uncle the 
Professor’s terribly scientific home.” 

^^Oh, yes; you had a gushing letter while 
she was in New York,” broke in another, ‘‘and 
you heard how Kate went, with her cousin, to 
a schoolgirl’s party, and met two girls named 
Fleming, great beauties, crazy about art, and 
all the things that Kate raves over. And she 


A NEW ARRIVAL. J3 

saw this Hungarian, who was staying with the 
Flemings, and lost her heart to her.^^ 

‘‘Exactly!’’ laughed Cornie. “Kate’s craze 
is everything foreign; so she fell in love with 
the Flemings, who have always lived abroad. 
They came here only for a winter, because their 
father had to look after some lawsuit he has 
just won. So they are going back to Germany, 
and wanted poor Verena to go with them — it 
seems she is some sort of a connection through 
their mother, who is half a German, but her 
brother positively refused. Then they tried to 
make him send her to school, because, as Kate 
says, everyone knows what a terrible time the 
child has at home between his vulgar wife and 
her grim, sermonizing, old Scotch mother. 
They asked Professor Armstrong to recom- 
mend our school, which he did so successfully 
that the little Hungarian orphan has been sent 
here at last. Poor child, how strange and wild 
she looks.” 

“Wild enough, just the sort of subject for 
treating to a pie-]3ed, or salt and flour sprinkled 
on her pillow,” maliciously suggested a sharp- 
looking girl, whose seventeen years did not 
seem to have brought with them the contempt 
for such childish tricks felt by the class to which 
she belonged. “Suppose we try to get up a 
little fun.” 

No one seconded this proposal, for Julia 


H THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

Maxwell, famed for lier disagreeable speeches 
and her teasing propensities, was thoroughly 
disliked by all her younger schoolmates, who 
would never have joined with her in such non- 
sense, though themselves often not disinclined 
thereunto. 

Never mind that now!’^ Elisabeth Arm- 
strong, a tall, dark, handsome girl of eighteen, 
the head of the school, began, somewhat 
sternly and abruptly. ‘‘We came here intend- 
ing to read.^’ 

Cornie^s comely face sparkled with mischief, 
and she would probably have said something 
ill-calculated to gratify the grave Elisabeth’s 
overweening self-importance, but the irrepres- 
sible Fanny Fox broke in : 

“Never mind those two old girls! Let us 
think of the new one. I have made up a 
romance about her. She must not be a Thistle 
— oh, no ! She must personate a character 
utterly indispensable in good, old-fashioned 
juvenile fiction, and which, as we know, our 
school has been pining for so very long. I 
mean, of course, the good pattern child, who is 
to reform us all, and return snubs with angelic 
meekness, and, perhaps, save somebody’s life — 
our dear Julia’s, or Elisabeth’s, for example — 
and die at last, with a great scene and fuss. 
We never had one yet like that ; poor little Vir- 
ginia Leslie came rather near it in some things. 


A NEW ARRIVAL. 


J5 


but, you know, she died at home, in the holi- 
days; so we missed the climax, though she did 
pretty well for the part, which isn’t easy here. 
First and foremost, she managed to keep 
Katharine Gordon Armstrong, now the most 
prickly and incorrigible of Thistles, in some- 
thing like order. Secondly, my dear Julia, 
she never joined in any practical jokes. 
Thirdly ” 

Fanny was interrupted by peals of laughter, 
but she continued, in her would-be solemn 
voice : 

‘‘Not that I enjoy the prospect. No more 
‘cakes and ale’ — don’t be shocked, young ladies, 
I only mean candy sucked under our desk lids 
and apples munched after we go to bed. No 
more tricks on poor Dorinda or brisk pillow 
fights before the Dragon comes upstairs. No. 
I foresee the decline of our Thistles ’ most cher- 
ished fun. ’ ’ 

“And I say that we’ll have more than ever,’’ 
Cornie protested gayly. “When did a wild- 
looking girl like this ever come to school and 
begin to set an example ? She will be a prickly 
Thistle soon enough.” 

“If you mean to make her such an outlaw 
as yourselves, I hope you mayn’t succeed,” 
rudely muttered Elisabeth, loud enough to be 
heard by all. Several looked annoyed, and 
Fanny was about to speak, but Cornie, too 


J6 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

cheerful and easy-going to mind ‘ ‘ Queen Bess, ’ ^ 
preserved peace for the moment by continuing 
her narrative of what she had heard from Kate 
concerning the newcomer, adding that Kate 
seemed so taken by this girl, and so sure of 
a romance in real life at last, that they would 
have fine fun in watching the progress of her 
fancy. The others laughed assent; but Elisa- 
beth again muttered, ^^Fun? Yes, that is all 
you ever care about ! ^ ^ 

^‘Who would suppose,’^ cried Fanny, ‘Hhat 
this indignant protest arose from anything but 
the purest sisterly affection and anger at the 
idea of our getting fun out of Kate I No, Elisa- 
beth, we understand you far too well, my dear ! 
Kate’s concerns are not in the least important 
to you; what you don’t relish is our light, frivo- 
lous tone, which jars unpleasantly upon your 
own most serene intellectual loftiness.” 

Julia Maxwell whispered slyly with her chief 
friend, nearly all the rest laughed, Cornie 
nodded to Fanny, who, greatly encouraged, pro- 
ceeded to develop her theory that the new 
scholar should become a model girl, adorning 
her romance with so much lively nonsense as 
to again draw peals of mirth from all save 
Elisabeth, who pretended to bury herself in 
their long-neglected book. Suddenly a rustling 
was heard in the branches of a pine tree over- 
hanging the doorway, and Cornie, looking up, 


A NEW ARRIVAL, i7 

beheld a tiny figure standing far aloft on one 
of the boughs, holding fast to another just above 
her head, while she swayed softly to and fro. 

‘‘It’s only the Brownie,” she explained; 
while the girl, lowering herself through the 
branches in a way that betokened good gym- 
nastic training, dropped lightly on the grass. 
“Never mind.” 

‘ ‘ Isabel, you have been listening, ’ ’ said Elisa- 
beth, with some severity. 

“No,” said the child (a pupil of twelve, called 
the Brownie by Kate, who liked fanciful nick- 
names, because of her rich brunette coloring 
and cheerful, helpful disposition, always glad 
to be of use). “Kate sent me here, Cornie, 
to look for you ; but when I saw you all talking 
in council I thought I wasn’t wanted, and 
climbed up for a swing till you were through.” 

“Well,” said Cornie, mildly, “and what does 
Kate want me for 1 ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Only to come over yonder and help the new 
girl to feel at home. ’ ’ 

“Kate has grown hospitable, and virtuous, 
and altruistic all of a sudden in most alarming 
style,” broke in Fanny. “She never took so 
much trouble with a new girl before — not even 
for you, Cornie, when you came all the way 
from St. Paul, Minnesota, wasn’t it? — and you 
took to each other, and it seemed so funny, 
because she was so little and you were so big. 


J8 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

You see, I was right; the spell is beginning to 
work. Take care, my good Cornie, lest this 
new arrival should cut you out. You had better 
hurry to see how things are going over yonder, 
where that new Thistle is tearing about with 
Kate.’^ 

this is meant for a polite way of getting 
rid of me, all I can say is that you can’t make 
me jealous or blind me by your wonderful 
attempts at diplomacy, or scare me by your 
absurd suggestions,” answered Cornie mer- 
rily, shaking her rich locks. ^ ‘ Come, Brownie ; 
let us go.” 


CHAPTER II. 


THE YOUNG FOREIGNER. 

HERE was a part of the spacious grounds 



of Mount Cedar, beside the paling fence 


^ of the kitchen garden, beyond which the 
forbidden region of ‘‘out of bounds’^ began, 
where the drooping boughs of fruit trees, 
now laden with blossoms, and the scattered firs, 
remnants of a grove long since cleared away, 
lent the spot a certain air of privacy and 
remoteness. Here stood two girls in front of 
a low upright trellis covered with budding 
vines, looking out into the western sky across 
the sloping garden, and talking in eager tones, 
with restless glances and quick, sudden motions 
betraying both a keen capacity for enjoyment 
and a degree of nervous excitability far too 
great for their age of fourteen, and still more 
for their stature, which was that of barely ten. 
Twin-like in size, in all other things they were 
a contrast. The Hungarian was a child sure 
to attract attention by her striking grace and 
picturesqueness, though some persons might 
have thought her too dark and wild-looking ; yet 
her face betokened great intelligence and was 


19 


20 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


already rich in its own peculiar beauty. Her 
clear olive skin, black, wavy hair, her fine, 
slightly aquiline, but neither sharp nor heavy 
features, and straight, resolute, black eye- 
brows over very dark gray eyes, with black 
lashes, would have marked her as a foreigner 
at first sight; so would her swift, unconscious 
gestures, the slight accent in her otherwise per- 
fect English, and the tones of her deep, rich 
voice. 

Her companion was fair enough for a Scan- 
dinavian, with large, bright blue eyes, set rather 
far apart under a fine forehead, and a rich mass 
of pale golden hair, turned back with a comb 
and curling on her shoulders. Her features 
were ordinary, and her general appearance that 
of a plain though intelligent girl, whose coun- 
tenance suggested an imaginative nature, with 
tastes and feelings precociously developed for 
her years, and a certain mournfulness of expres- 
sion, save when strongly excited — which latter 
condition, it may be mentioned, occurred so 
often that Kate Armstrong pretty generally 
deserved the sobriquet given her by Fanny Fox 
of Kate Headstrong, and had long been an 
acknowledged leader in pranks among the 
^‘Thistles,’’ as she called her own set of girls. 

^‘Yes,’’ Kate was saying in answer to 
Verena’s praises of the rolling landscape, in 
the clear light of the mild, late- April after- 


THE YOUNG FOREIGNER. 2J 

noon. ‘‘Here it is always beautiful, but 
nothing now to what it will be in summer. You 
expect to stay here through the vacation, don’t 
you ? ’ ’ 

“I’ll do anything sooner than be sent home,” 
cried Verena fiercely, raising her graceful 
head and shaking her heavy raven hair, while 
a look of defiant pain drew down the corners 
of her firm yet delicate mouth. 

“I am so glad! A great many girls stay 
then — orphans like you and me,” said Kate, 
in a business-like tone, changing into eagerness 
as she went on. “We have good times then; 
the rules are relaxed and we have picnics, and 
make excursions, and sit out of doors in the 

evenings, and sing, and ” Kate stopped 

abruptly, struck by her companion’s face. 

“Now, Verena,” she went on, blushing 
slightly, “don’t be vexed if I tell you something. 
If you want to have any peace don’t ever talk 
much about the view, and the sunsets, and the 
singing, and the things you really love best, to 
the other girls as you do to me. They are gen- 
erally good-natured, but nine-tenths of them 
don’t care for such things as you and I do. 
You would only get taken down, even by the nice 
girls, with a douche of cold water in the midst 
of any enthusiasm. And those big, hateful, 
sarcastic, sneering ones — Julia Maxwell, and 
Cecilia Morgan, and their set, whom Cornie and 


22 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


I detest, and call ^ Julia & Co.’ — for they are 
leagued against us — would laugh and play off 
their jokes on you, and make fun of the things 
you love best, and that’s ten times harder to 
hear than being only laughed at for oneself. ’ ’ 
know,” said Verena, slowly, and as though 
painfully looking back upon something. 

Schools in Europe may often be the same as 
schools here in those things, for the sneering 
girls are everywhere. But I liked my Hun- 
garian seminary and hated having to leave it; 
though, if I must be in America, I would rather 
be here than at my brother’s. But you, Kate — 
you are not like the other girls; I knew it at 
once. ’ ’ 

‘^No,” said Kate, half sadly. never feel 
just like them. I love so many fanciful things, 
and I never have seemed to myself to be really 
an American — I mean I ought to belong to some 
other country. And I am glad you understand 
it — so glad!” 

Verena, half amused and half touched by 
Kate’s earnestness, made a silent gesture of 
assent, while her friend went on eagerly, 
‘‘There’s so much in knowing how to take these 
girls at the start. They’re not formidable if 
you talk nonsense, and laugh, and keep quiet 
about anything that really stirs you. Here 
comes the Brownie, dear child, and my good, 
delightful Cornie, both angels — only remember 
what I said to you. ’ ’ 


THE YOUNG FOREIGNER. 


23 


broke in Cornie’s merry voice, 
^‘here I am, at your service.’’ 

Kate smiled and Verena scanned Cornie’s 
rosy face with a searching look from under her 
dark eyebrows. But little Brownie, who had 
been darting hither and thither like a bird, 
rushed up to her new schoolfellow, twining one 
arm round her waist, while with the other she 
seized Kate. 

Never mind talking; the bell will ring soon. 
We might show her the gymnasium. Cornie, 
will you lead the way and take care of us ? ” 
Verena looked all eagerness at mention of 
the gymnasium, but, to Kate’s relief, confined 
herself to a quiet assent, and the four girls 
mounted to the large hall on the top story of one 
of the wings. Brownie opened the door, but 
instantly drew back, with a woe-begone face. 

‘‘They’re in there! All the Nettles, waiting 
to pounce on us.” 

‘ ‘ Too bad ! ’ ’ muttered Kate. ‘ ‘Never mind ; 
it won ’t do to notice them. ’ ’ 

“They won’t get the better of me!” pro- 
nounced Cornie, with energy. “Don’t seem to 
mind them, Verena, but come on.” 

Verena nodded, feeling a sort of combative 
excitement at the prospect ; while Cornie, 
throwing open the door, marched in with a bold 
front towards the enemy, who were grouped at 
the farther end of the long room, leaning 


24 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


against some horizontal bars in front of a large 
window, or seated on the mattress underneath. 
One small, agile figure kept swiftly flying to and 
fro on the rings along the center of the gym- 
nasium; and Kate, with dismay, recognized the 
dreaded esprit fort of her own class, Fanny 
Fox. 

^‘So youVe turned bear-leader to that wild 
little cub, have you ? ^ ’ she whispered, as Cornie 
passed, and her own feet touched the platform 
at the end of the line of rings, while she paused 
for breath. Verena, whose senses were remark- 
ably acute, caught the words, but, checking her 
impulse to utter an unwise rejoinder to the 
effect that the young hear in question did not 
intend to suffer being teased and baited for the 
general amusement, quietly slipped her thin, 
nervous fingers into the ring just released from 
Fanny’s grasp, and in another moment was 
lightly swinging across the room. 

She’s a match for you, Foxey!” laughed 
Cornie to Fanny, who, folding her arms, stood 
looking after the new scholar, not without 
admiration, as, having reached the upper end 
of the gymnasium, she dropped from the ring, 
and, perching herself upon the bars, instantly 
became the center of a set of critics whose 
innumerable questions seemed to be met by 
answers sufficiently clever to preserve her from 
the merciless teasing dreaded for her by Kate, 


THE YOUNG FOREIGNER, 


25 


now watching her from afar, and withheld from 
drawing nearer by Cornie, who clasped and 
held her with a pair of strong arms; while 
Fanny, echoing her very thoughts, exclaimed: 
^‘Nonsense, let her go, she can push her way 
well enough, and you know that, though you 
may be very high in your classes, youVe no 
talent for smart repartees, such as are needed 
just now over yonder, my dear ! ^ ’ 

Cornie and Fanny, attracted by curiosity, 
soon approached the group at the window, 
releasing Kate, who presently beheld her new 
friend join Fanny in performing a variety of 
gymnastic feats with a dexterity awakening the 
admiration of all spectators, and entirely 
removing from Kate^s mind the last fear lest 
the young foreigner should display any nervous 
shyness or other qualities likely to lead her into 
trouble. How beautiful Verena looked, Kate 
thought, swinging easily along on the rings, her 
face flushed with excitement, her black hair 
curling on her forehead and streaming far 
behind under its fluttering scarlet ribbon, her 
tiny, agile form, in a gray red-trimmed short 
skirt and scarlet blouse, rising and falling in 
a rhythmic motion that suggested music. Kate 
scarcely could believe that this was the lonely, 
melancholy girl whom she had met during the 
holidays, whose weak, henpecked half-brother 
had soon wearied of her frequent conflicts with 


26 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


his unruly boys, and left her to fight her own 
battles with his wife and mother-in-law, who 
were glad to get her out of the house. Verena 
had had real misfortunes; yet her attractive 
personality was already smoothing for her the 
first steps of her new school-life, while arousing 
a pang of mournful envy in Kate’s heart. It 
, was guileless envy ; Kate would not have 
wished her to be less beautiful, less able to 
make her way; yet she herself could not help 
feeling just a little lonely, and unimportant, and 
left out. 

Over-sensitive and imaginative, there was not 
much chance of Kate ever being too happy, or 
that life at a large school could be without many 
secret trials utterly unknown to Cornie’s calm 
healthfulness or Brownie’s quiet, gentle soul. 
High animal spirits, however, and extreme vola- 
tility often made her seem the gayest of the 
gay; and no one who watched her now, swing- 
ing after Verena along the rings, or leaping on 
the springing-board, would have taken her to 
be anything but a lively girl of about ten, or 
have guessed what capacities for strange 
extremes of wild mirth and profound sadness 
lay concealed beneath that childish and in no 
way remarkable exterior. 

Active motion, as usual, raised her spirits; 
yet she could not help feeling slightly vexed 
when, as the bell rang, Verena allowed Fanny 


THE YOUNG FOREIGNER. 


27 


Fox to put an arm around her waist and run 
out of the room with her, never casting a glance 
at Kate as she silently followed, silently reflect- 
ing that she seemed almost certain to get into 
trouble by trying to serve anybody, in spite of 
all that was said about the happiness of doing 
good. 

But the Hungarian’s high spirits and cool 
ease of manner subsided into most exemplary 
quiet at supper, when she had to face the entire 
school. Soon after a hell rang, and all who 
had not finished their lessons for the morrow 
had to leave the cheerful ‘4ong parlor,” where 
their more industrious comrades were talking, 
reading or playing games under the mild super- 
vision of the French teacher, and betake them- 
selves to the schoolroom. 

Mrs. Hill, the Principal of Mount Cedar, was 
kind-hearted, cultivated, eager to do her duty; 
but delicate health, together with a certain 
innate timidity and a lurking doubt as to her 
fitness for a position she had only assumed from 
necessity, rendered her far more of a nominal 
than a real ruler, the chief authority and man- 
agement for years past having devolved more 
and more upon the first English teacher, Miss 
Clive. 

Whatever defects of character might lessen 
Mrs. Hill’s influence. Miss Clive was free from, 
since she was always erring in the opposite 


28 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


direction, with the errors of a nature full of 
strong, positive qualities, ardor and vitality. 
Earnest, sincere, quick to take olfence and to 
forgive, the healthy moral and religious influ- 
ence she strove to exercise upon the pupils was 
too often marred and neutralized by a certain 
hastiness of temper and a frequent lack both 
of tact and judgment. Full of hobbies, it was 
fortunate that most of them took the direction 
of uniting a thorough physical education with 
the intellectual one. She allowed no fashion- 
able follies. Her girls, large and small, were 
clad in simple, comfortable uniforms, the classes 
distinguished by colored belts and the various 
badges of merit she delighted to bestow. She 
enforced plenty of outdoor exercise and gym- 
nastic training. Greatly admired by her 
scholars, her occasional wilfulness led her often 
into words and actions which made them justly 
feel angry and provoked. Handsome, talented 
and still young, she was sometimes carried away 
by a certain dramatic vein in her nature which 
led her to promote a spirit of emulation by 
every variety of outward stimulus. Early 
thrown upon her own resources, she had never 
proved unequal to any call for exertion, and 
had scarcely ever been for a moment shaken 
in her own self-confidence. Mrs. Hill and the 
under-teachers usually yielded to her almost as 
a matter of course. Eager to develop the girls ’ 


THE YOUNG FOREIGNER. 


29 


talents to the utmost, and to stimulate every 
brilliant faculty, that meek, patient, industrious 
mediocrity which Dr. Arnold so reverenced in 
liis boys was too apt to be overlooked by her 
amid the all-absorbing intellectual excitement 
that was at once her weakness and her strength. 

Verena, awaiting orders, had seated herself 
at the desk she was to occupy beside Kate, when 
the door opened and Miss Clive, tall, stylish, 
finely made, with handsome features, dark hair 
piled on top of the well-shaped head that sur- 
mounted a remarkably erect and rather mili- 
tary-looking figure, and bright black eyes famed 
for seeing everything and darting terror into 
every culprit’s heart, advanced up the long 
room, with her quick yet stately step, and, lay- 
ing her hand on Verena ’s shoulder, summoned 
her to follow her to Mrs. Hill at once. 

Verena sprang up, awed by Miss Clive’s face, 
voice and touch, but striving hard to seem 
unconcerned while she was led away to the 
platform at the upper end of the room, where 
Mrs. Hill, a tall, pale, sickly-looking, though 
not unattractive elderly woman, sat waiting 
to test her new scholar’s proficiency in various 
branches of knowledge. 

‘^They look like Greenough’s Angel and 
Child, ’ ’ whispered Kate, glancing after them. 

‘‘No,” said Cornie, who, though fluent and 
ready in everything practical, was slow at 


30 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


study; ^^not the guardian angel 1 would 
choose ! She is more like a drill-sergeant, 
always talking about being a soldier’s daughter 
and a soldier’s sister — and I wish she were one 
herself, instead of playing at being general and 
policeman here. ’ ’ 

‘‘She gets soldiering enough,” put in Fanny, 
“what with the brains and the tempers she has 
to deal with. ’ ’ ( The allusion to ‘ ‘ brains ’ ’ prob- 

ably was meant for Cornie, while the ‘ ‘ tempers ’ ’ 
referred to Kate). 

Verena, meanwhile, was undergoing an edu- 
cational catechism, inwardly rather nervous, 
but acquitting herself well. Mrs. Hill was 
always gentle unless she felt bound to reprove ; 
but Miss Clive, although inclined to admire the 
new scholar, maintained a severe demeanor for 
the sake of authority. 

“So you are half Hungarian, are you?” she 
repeated sternly, as though detecting Verena 
in something wrong. “You speak the lan- 
guage and German, too, and you say you have 
read a great deal. Can you recite poetry?” 

“Certainly; in Magyar, if you like,” calmly 
replied Verena, sufficiently loud for the listen- 
ing troop of girls to hear. 

Forty pairs of eager eyes were turned upon 
her in amazement, causing the excitable child’s 
heart to beat quickly as she stood motionless. 

Miss Clive’s secret surprise was quite equal 


THE YOUNG FOREIGNER. 31 

to that of the pupils, so, without waiting for 
the sensation to exhaust itself, she curtly bade 
Verena to recite some short piece of poetry if 
she could. 

Merely saying that she would repeat a patri- 
otic poem by Petofi, translated by Sir John 
Bowring as ‘ ‘ One Only Thought, ’ ’ Verena began 
to declaim the lines, her assumed quietness pass- 
ing involuntarily into uncontrollable ardor. 
Her deep, rich, finely modulated voice lent a 
strange charm to the foreign words that no one 
but herself understood; her fiery enthusiasm 
and dramatic, though half-unconscious gestures 
riveted the attention of every girl in the room 
as, starting from their seats, they crowded 
round the platform, and, for once unchidden by 
Miss Clive, stood breathless, in a semi-circle, 
watching that small, graceful figure, conspicu- 
ous as if upon a stage. Fanny Fox looked on 
with admiring eyes, Cornie seemed interested, 
but Kate, utterly amazed at her new friend’s 
developments, stood bending forward in the 
front row, among taller companions, wildly 
wishing that she herself had such a face, a tal- 
ent and a voice. She was the only girl present 
who had read the poem in English, or could con- 
nect any ideas with the strange yet melodious 
sounds issuing from the lips of the young 
Hungarian, who seemed to be an actress horn. 

Miss Clive’s dark eyes rested with deep inter- 


32 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


est on Verena’s glowing face; but she praised 
her in few words, while Mrs. Hill sent back the 
excited girls to their desks, where they 
exchanged low comments. 

'^She seems a fine, spirited little thing, 
began Fanny, following Kate’s thoughtful blue 
eyes as they watched Verena, still being ques- 
tioned on the platform. ‘‘Look how the Gen- 
eral (a name for Miss Clive) scans every move- 
ment! She’s taking stock of our new Thistle’s 
capabilities for the acting — and then, Katie 
darling, just take care lest you should find your 
own dear little nose put out of joint!” 

Kate, pretending to study, made no reply, for 
teasing “Foxey” had expressed her own secret 
fear. The grand half-yearly frolic of the 
school consisted in acting a little French play 
before breaking up. The “Nettles,” or 
‘ ‘ stuck-up, hateful ones, ’ ’ as the Thistles called 
their enemies, always strove for the best parts, 
often with success. Kate herself, not being 
particularly good-looking, and being a prom- 
inent Thistle into the bargain, would have had 
small chance of a role save for her high 
standing with Madame Verrier, the French 
teacher, and only through her influence, so that 
she always suffered untold anxiety beforehand 
lest she should be crowded out. Here, then, 
was a fresh source of uneasiness ; and she 
underwent a cruel struggle between her real 


THE YOUNG FOE^GNER. 


33 


liking for Verena and the dread of being de- 
prived of her dearest enjoyment. 

And yet Kate would hardly have envied 
Verena could she have read her thoughts when 
study-time was over and they rejoined the 
others in the parlor, where Miss Clive read 
prayers in her full, clear voice. Verena, 
between Fanny and Kate, neither of whom, it 
must be owned, seemed to be much imbued with 
reverence, could not help contrasting this scene 
with the unhappy home she had quitted, and 
to which, her school days ended, she feared that, 
although not financially dependent on her half- 
brother, she must return. At the country day- 
school she had recently attended, Verena had 
been the wildest of romping rebels ; at home she 
sought comfort and solace by plunging into all 
sorts of books, wishing that her own sordid, 
fretting and commonplace trials were some- 
thing fine and romantic, like what she had read 
about in poetry. And when the school of eighty 
girls, led by Miss Clive, rose and sang a hymn 
to the accompaniment of an organ, played by 
Madame Verrier, the young stranger ^s unrest 
increased until only the excitement of singing 
saved her from sobbing, envying, as she did, 
those other girls, who, as she fancied, had had 
a happier past than hers, and might look for- 
ward to a brighter future. 

The dormitory of Verena ’s class was a large, 

3 


34 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


airy room, divided into alcoves, with curtained 
doorways. Kate, with Fanny and Cornie, 
plunged wildly into the one assigned to the 
Hungarian, turning everything topsy-turvy in 
order to see that no tricks had been played, and, 
having satisfied themselves that all was in 
order, wished her good-night, and retired to 
their respective cells. Miss Almira, a prim- 
looking teacher, seated herself, book in hand, 
beneath the shaded light in the center of the 
long room, and silence soon reigned. 


CHAPTER III. 


MEMORIES AND NOVELTIES. 

i "'HERE she goes, with her attendant eril 
I spirit, while her guardian angel dis- 
^ mally watches her from a distance!” 
exclaimed Fanny Fox. ^‘Poor, good, serious- 
minded Agnes Leslie — it’s hard for her to have 
her last term here embittered by seeing Kate, 
her protegee of old times, carried olf by that 
wild little elf, and her pranks redoubled.” 

Cornie nodded a careless assent, while listen- 
ing to some schoolgirl chatter, too merry and 
easy-going to grieve over what ^^Foxey” chose 
to term Kate’s desertion of her for a new 
friend. The Hungarian, in a few days, had 
grown perfectly at home, striking up a vehement 
intimacy with Kate, who, in her turn, was 
absorbed by the delight of finding some one who 
could understand her own strange, dreamy vein 
of thought. Verena, when alone with her, was 
confiding, sympathetic, eager to talk about 
Europe, books and poetry. Among the other 
girls she was self-contained, daring, bold and 
headstrong; so that the character of the ‘^This- 

35 


36 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


ties, ’ ’ by no means high, seemed likely to suffer 
from her wild example. 

Midway in age between the older and younger 
scholars, Kate, owing to her small size and 
childish aspect, occupied rather an anomalous 
position in the school. High in nearly all her 
studies, among classmates mostly her seniors 
by a year or two, when once out of the school- 
room her animal spirits led her to seek fun and 
frolic among the youngest madcaps, or ‘‘Junior 
Thistles,’^ to the dismay of her sister, Elisabeth, 
who had no influence over her, and thought it 
shocking that she should wish to remain a child 
so long. 

Kacing down the shady walk during morning 
recess, Verena and Kate dashed into the sum- 
mer house, to their horror finding it occupied 
by Julia & Co. Breathless and speechless, 
Kate leaned against the door, her chest heaving 
beneath her dark-blue flannel blouse, upon 
which sparkled a large gold locket, usually worn 
only on Sundays and holidays. The bright glit- 
ter caught Julia Maxwell’s eye, and she began, 
in her sarcastic tone : 

‘ ‘ So, cliild, you have your precious amulet 
on to-day, have you?” taking advantage of 
Kate’s panting condition to seize the locket 
and open it, while another teasing girl held 
down the arms of its owner, vainly struggling 
to withdraw. 


MEMORIES AND NOVELTIES, 37 

Don’t wriggle so, we won’t steal it!” cried 
Cecilia Morgan; while Julia went on, ^^We want 
to see the charm, or whatever it is, inside. Oh ! 
you needn’t flush, and stamp, and cry; your 
new friend has deserted you; so you’ll have 
to take it quietly ! ’ ’ 

Kate, glancing round, beheld Verena speed- 
ing along the walk. It was not like her to run 
away, and Kate vaguely hoped her gone in 
search of reinforcements, struggling mean- 
while to keep from flying into an impotent rage, 
which would have redoubled the mirth of her 
tormentors. Ordinary teasing she could have 
borne; but this locket was her most precious 
treasure, containing the hair and portrait of 
her first friend at school, about whom she had 
been telling the Hungarian that very morning. 

When Kate had entered Mount Cedar, five 
years before, her constant companion was a 
little English Canadian, a delicate child of 
nine, sent away from the biting winters of her 
home — Virginia Leslie, the only sister of Agnes, 
Intelligent, affectionate and well trained, she 
soon gained a wholesome influence over Kate, 
whose home discipline, mainly directed towards 
stimulating her intellect, had left her heart and 
deeper life comparatively untouched. It was 
after Virginia’s somewhat sudden death that 
Kate, at twelve years old, fell into a profound 
dejection, from which at first it seemed as if 


38 


TpE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

nothing conld arouse her. As regarded her 
own conduct, it might have been better if a 
touch of this melancholy, full of pure and happy 
memories, could have lasted longer, for when, 
in a few months, she slowly regained her spirits, 
she became less studious, more wilful and a 
source of anxiety to her teachers. In the 
autumn Cornie Freeman arrived from her 
Western home, a healthy, joyous creature, liked 
by all, and by degrees growing to be Kate’s 
intimate associate. Yet it was intolerable to 
see this locket, formerly Virginia’s, and, after 
her death, sent by her mother to Kate, with its 
first owner’s miniature inside, rudely handed 
about and criticised with many flippant 
speeches, while Kate herself writhed power- 
lessly in the strong grasp of Cecilia, who had 
drawn her upon her lap, with both arms round 
her. 

^^Let me go, you hateful girl!” she cried 
passionately; while Julia went on, ‘‘So this is 
her talisman that she makes so much fuss 
about ! ’ ’ 

“She oughtn’t to wear it to-day,” added 
Cecilia. “You know how Fanny calls it her 
badge of merit, that she never dares to put 
on unless she’s good;” while Julia rejoined, 
“Then she’s right to wear it, for, if she kept it 
for a sign of goodness, she’d have to. wait 
uncommonly long.” 


MEMORIES AND NOVELTIES. 


39 


Cecilia and the rest answered in the same 
strain, while Julia went on to say various sharp 
things about the Leslies, though somewhat baf- 
fled by her inability to provoke a reply. Pres- 
ently some one called out : 

‘‘Take care! Let her go, girls; here comes 
the Dragon 

Miss Almira, nicknamed the Dragon, was a 
rather importamt personage who for years had 
occupied the arduous position of housekeeper 
and factotum at Mount Cedar, teaching some 
elementary English branches, sitting in school- 
room or dormitory to maintain order, keeping 
accounts, and looked upon by Mrs. Hill as her 
right hand until Miss Clive, with her more 
refined and cultivated, though not more ener- 
getic and conscientious, nature, had come to 
rival her in authority. Miss Almira, who was 
much the elder, had resisted these attempts to 
divide her sway, but in vain ; and the result was 
a sort of hollow truce between them, often pass- 
ing into sharp words. The balance of power 
in all pertaining to the schoolroom naturally 
inclined in Miss Clive’s favor, as nearly all the 
girls took pains to cultivate her good graces; 
while the poor Dragon, equally good and 
earnest, with more plain common sense in many 
things, and never harsh save from necessity, 
became an object of dislike and dread. 

Yerena, knowing herself powerless to rescue 


40 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


Kate, had run to seek her friends, Agnes Leslie 
or Grace Howard, but unexpectedly met Miss 
Almira in the garden, and appealed to her. 

^‘Seventeen years old, and disgracing them- 
selves by tormenting Kate, are theyT’ wearily 
sighed the poor Dragon, facing the unwelcome 
prospect of passing her fragment of noonday 
leisure in bestowing a rebuke. ^‘You did right 
to tell me, dear, hut you had better keep out 
of the way, and let them fancy I come by acci- 
dent, or they will persecute you afterwards. ^ ^ 
Cecilia, catching sight of the teacher, thrust 
Kate otf her lap with a jerk, while Julia flung 
the locket on the table, whence it was quickly 
snatched by its owner as she darted off and 
ran to where Verena awaited her beyond the 
spreading cedars, sinking on a bench and burst- 
ng into a flood of tears. 

Never mind!” she sobbed in answer to her 
friend ^s efforts to console her. ‘HJl be better 
soon. Only — I wish there were more girls here 
like you, and Cornie, and Grace, and — oh, I 
do get so tired of being forced to bear horrid 
things and pretending not to mind 1 ’ ’ 

Verena laughed and nodded, twirling round 
in a pirouette on tiptoe and spreading out her 
arms with a quick, graceful gesture, while she 
tossed her handsome head until its jet-black 
locks seemed to sparkle in the sunshine with a 
luminous shimmer reminding Kate of the 


MEMORIES AND NOVELTIES. 4J 

silvery luster visible at noon upon the polished 
needles of a pine. Grace Howard, a tall 
brunette of eighteen, meeting them as they 
turned towards the house, and, seeing the locket 
in Kate ’s hand, stopped her, exclaiming : 

‘‘Why don’t you wear that oftener? The 
girls would grow accustomed to seeing it, and, 
as for all that stuff about calling it your ‘amu- 
let,’ you should turn the tables on them by 
making it serve as an amulet, to remind you of 
things and persons that you oughtn’t to for- 
get. ’ ’ 

Kate’s eyes again filled as she silently handed 
the locket to Grace, who lifted her light, flowing 
hair, and, clasping the chain round her neck, 
kissed her and hastened away. There was no 
time for talking; the bell rang, and they had 
to return to the schoolroom, becoming aware 
of a certain subdued whispering among their 
classmates. 

“Didn’t you hear I” began Cornie. “Some- 
thing is up. All our commanders have held a 
council in the study, and Foxey heard the Gen- 
eral say, as she came out, “Then it is settled, 
each shall read her own ” 

“Compositions, of course!” broke in Fanny. 
“We are each to stand up on the platform 
and spout our own eloquence, instead of the 
General doing it for us. No wonder her lungs 
have given out under the strain of your last 


42 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


four-paged production, Kate, my dear ; so 
here^s the result 

Fanny’s teasing was cut short by the entrance 
of Mrs. Hill, always present during the read- 
ing of compositions, followed by Miss Clive. 

That young woman was full of fancies. In 
these days she would probably have found vent 
for what Kate called her ‘‘church, stage and 
army craze” by forming branches of the King’s 
Daughters, the Bands of Mercy and similar 
associations among her pupils, which, if judi- 
ciously managed, might have done them a world 
of good. But, at that time, such things were 
as yet unheard of, and the “General” amused 
herself by tinkering at many matters in the 
line of study, especially the classes for recita- 
tion and composition, once a fortnight, with 
which Mrs. Hill never presumed to interfere. 
Kate was fond of writing, and generally maii^ 
tained her high place in that class without much 
trouble. Yet her heart heat at Fanny’s words. 

Much as she enjoyed composition days, it was 
always something of a trial to her to hear her 
own themes read aloud. Miss Clive, in her 
desire to stimulate ambition, usually assembled 
the elder girls to hear the productions of Kate ’s 
class, and she shivered before the presence of 
her sister Elisabeth, who, though a tine student, 
was a most labored and Johnsonian writer, with 
a fondness for criticising quite in proportion 


MEMORIES AND NOVELTIES. 


43 


to her own inability to compose. The pain 
would not be unmixed with pleasure, but Kate 
felt as if the floor must open to engulf her 
before she could muster courage to mount the 
platform and read out her own composition 
before all those girls. And what would Verena 
do? Personal fascination and dramatic power 
would be sure to carry her through whatever 
she might write, and — who could tell? — perhaps 
she might even become head of the class — and 
a rush of hitter, envious fears for the loss of 
her most cherished distinction overflowed 
Kate’s heart. 

Mrs. Hill had taken her chair ; her sad, dark 
eyes resting mournfully upon the rows of young 
faces, her own face marked with many lines 
of ill health, anxiety and care. Beside her stood 
Miss Clive, tall, erect, dignified, one hand lying 
on the desk, the other holding a written paper 
as, with her spirited head thrown back and her 
piercing gaze taking in every girl in the room, 
she read, in a strong, rich voice, her new edict 
that all compositions must be read by their 
authors henceforth. 

Prepared as many were for this, a low mur- 
mur of dismay ran through the ranks of Kate ’s 
class, selected as the first victims of the new 
law in all its rigor. Verena, quite unconcerned, 
glanced at Kate, and saw her flush and draw a 
deep breath. 


44 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


It may have been a sign of the struggle which 
Miss Clive, in many ways, tried to keep up 
against her own impetuosity, that her wildest 
actions were marked by some show of form and 
ceremony. A certain spirit of military disci- 
pline blended strangely with each fantastic 
impulse. One of her habits was that of never 
addressing any girl by an abbreviation, but of 
rolling out her Christian name and surname 
whenever she summoned her. Accordingly, 
after a pause, she began : 

‘ ‘ Katharine Gordon Armstrong ! ^ ’ 

No answer ; but Kate looked up in speechless 
tremor, while her heart beat to suffocation. 
Another, and still louder, quicker summons. 
She rose with difficulty, determined not to 
amuse her critics by displaying nervousness, 
yet trembling in every limb and leaning upon 
her desk. 

‘‘Katharine Gordon Armstrong!” cried Miss 
Clive yet more sharply, contracting her fine 
black eyebrows, tapping her pencil impatiently 
upon the desk and her foot upon the floor. 

Kate’s limbs at last consented to bear her, 
not too steadily, out from among the desks, 
along the room and up the steps. 

Miss Clive greeted her with an angry glance. 

“Stand here!” she began, taking Kate’s 
trembling arm and pushing her into a prom- 
inent position beside the desk, at which she 


MEMORIES AND NOVELTIES. 


45 


now seated herself. ^^Let us have no more 
nonsense ! Begin at once ! ’ ^ 

Kate’s terror, of course, was the one absorb- 
ing interest of the school just now. Whether 
from malice, curiosity or sympathy, each girl 
bent her eyes steadily upon the shrinking figure 
that looked like the youngest of them all, feeling 
as if her own destiny might be guessed by what 
happened to Kate. Frightened though they 
were, the pervading excitement vented itself in 
a low murmur. 

^‘Silence!” thundered Miss Clive. am 
addressing all of you. It is time for this non- 
sense to have an end. No sensible girl, who 
has done her best, need be ashamed to read it 
out. Katharine, begin at once.” 

Kate’s cold, trembling hands could scarcely 
open her composition book, and her voice, as 
she read the title, was so husky that Miss Clive 
repeated it aloud. It was well that she knew 
the opening lines by heart, for her brain was 
dizzy with a wild ringing in her ears; a thick, 
white, blinding mist hovered before her eyes; 
she could not see Fanny’s piercing gaze or 
Cornie ’s look of sympathy. Her faltering voice 
would not be controlled; twice she stammered 
and was silent. Unable to steady it, she pressed 
one hand upon her chest, and the touch of the 
locket beneath her trembling fingers helped to 
recall her scattered thoughts. By degrees her 


46 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


voice grew steadier, then full and natural, as 
her innate love for anything dramatic came to 
her assistance, giving her courage to go on 
boldly through certain rather high-flown pas- 
sages which she would gladly have omitted but 
for the presence, at her elbow, of Miss Clive, 
who liked fine writing, fine names (her own was 
Adelaide Helen), and had not always sufficient 
sense of humor to discern when the sublime, 
as existing in the schoolgirl mind, was apt to 
topple over into the ridiculous. In a few 
moments Kate began to feel as though acting in 
a play; there was a keen enjojnnent in this 
when the awful plunge was over. Terror had 
ruled the beginning of her stay upon the plat- 
form, but a flush of gratified ambition absorbed 
her at its close when Miss Clive, in her usual 
dictatorial, stately manner, uttered warm words 
of praise, in which Miss Hill most heartily 
joined. 

Kate’s eyes were sparkling and her head 
uplifted as she marched back to her seat. 
There was no fear of Fanny’s teasing, for 
^‘Frances Edith Fox” was the next victim, get- 
ting through her somewhat brief but pithy com- 
position as if she rather thought the whole 
atfair a joke. Several senior members of the 
class followed, after which the “Thistles” reap- 
peared in Grace Howard’s sister Sophie, a 
strong, blithe, careless creature of fifteen, who. 


MEMORIES AND NOVELTIES, 


47 


though not physically nervous, was chidden by 
Miss Clive for ‘"want of dignity.” Verena, 
as a new scholar, was the last. 

As the small, graceful, foreign-looking girl 
left her seat and, without the least sign of fear, 
walked up to the platform, Kate, leaning back, 
almost faint with the reaction from her recent 
ordeal, felt a secret pang of jealous dread. 
‘‘Verena has her beauty, and her voice, and her 
foreign ways that everyone admires — and 1 
have nothing except what I work so hard to 
get!” thought the poor child, “and I can’t be 
like the good girls in stories and love Verena 
better than myself, and feel willing to see her 
take the head of my classes and rob me of all 
I have earned.” Higher ambitions could not 
have racked a human heart more intensely than 
did this small one of hers during the next few 
moments, thankful that the. girls were so 
absorbed in watching Verena that they did not 
notice Kate’s agitated looks. Brief, though 
well expressed, save for one or two rather 
flowery, foreign-sounding phrases, the Hun- 
garian’s production, recited with her usual dra- 
matic ardor, was received with but moderate 
praise by her teachers, who, like the girls, 
seemed less struck by what she had said than by 
the way she said it. Kate breathed again and 
lifted her head as Miss Clive read out the names, 
her own still the first, and quietly slipped the 


48 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

red ribbon of her medal as head of the com- 
position class through her buttonhole, where 
it greeted Verena’s eyes as she calmly returned 
to her seat. 

Provoked by the recent exhibition of giggling 
nervousness, Miss Clive, while the girls awaited 
the word of dismissal, suddenly rose and stood 
in her favorite attitude of martial dignity — 
head thrown back, the left hand drooping on 
the desk, while, with her right outstretched, she 
began an oration upon what she termed her 
pupils’ folly, dwelling, not without some elo- 
quence, upon the duty of developing all talents 
to the utmost, and finally, with great enthusi- 
asm, reciting Milton’s sonnet on arriving at the 
age of twenty-three. A few girls looked inter- 
ested, but the majority, only too well accus- 
tomed to their teacher’s freaks and inconsist 
encies, listened impatiently, longing to get out 
of doors. 

^‘The General is crazy about Milton,” said 
Fanny to Verena as they ran into the garden. 
‘‘Once she gave Kate a dozen of his sonnets to 
learn as a punishment, but Kate was in her 
element, knew them all in an hour, and rolled 
them off in her most solemn style. So now the 
General gives her arithmetic, or chemistry, or 
something dry, and dull, and hard, that she 
can’t work up into an effect of any sort. Hard 
work, without any poetry to be got out of it, is 


MEMORIES AND NOVELTIES. 


49 


just wliat Kate detests most — and so, my dear 
young Hungarian, I wickedly incline to think 
it is with you/^ 

‘^How did you guess? cried Verena, much 
amused, as she lightly leaped upon the seat of 
the large swing, prepared to ‘'work up,” with 
several other Thistles, all of whom regarded 
her with admiring eyes as she stood poised 
upon the edge as though ready to take flight, 
her long hair floating in the warm breeze, her 
eyes sparkling, her whole weight supported by 
her little hands clasped round the poles as she 
bent backwards. “At my Hungarian school 
they told me so.” 

“I always sinned by seeing things too clearly 
and speaking out,” “Foxey” answered drily. 
“Kate says it’s my hard-headed Yankee style, 
though she’s half a New Englander herself and 
vows I haven ’t any poetry in me because I don ’t 
fly olf into heroics as she does. I only hope 
she may develop a little more hard-headedness 
and less poetry in a year or two; it would do 
her a world of good. But I really pitied her 
at first, on the platform, though she got through 
splendidly, and the flush and excitement were 
very becoming. I don’t admire those pale, 
washed-out blondes much (Fanny herself was 
a rich brunette, quite aware of her attractions), 
but she looked better than Sophie Howard, who 
stooped and giggled, and showed for less than 


50 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


she is. Look — Kate is off, enjoying her triumph 
among her small friends yonder!’’ 

Somewhat afraid of ^‘Foxey’s” sharp 
speeches, Kate had sought refuge with a con- 
genial batch of junior Thistles, where she felt 
secure, while they raced up and down. Grace 
Howard, meanwhile, walked apart with a tall, 
thoughtful-looking girl, whose dark brown eyes 
shone with deep interest as she listened to 
Grace’s story of her meeting with Kate after 
the adventure with the teasing Julia & Co. 
The ‘‘banished guardian angel,” as Fanny 
called Agnes Leslie, was troubling herself 
already concerning what she feared might be 
Kate’s future wildness under the fascination 
of Verena’s influence, hardly allowing the more 
sanguine and level-headed Grace to take a 
brighter view, and mournfully recalling how 
she once had said that Kate’s besetting sin was 
the giving too free a rein to her wild imagina- 
tion and passionate love for the beautiful with 
a zest she seldom showed for spiritual things, 
and an ardent worship of the ideal and , the 
fanciful which dazzled her and might but lead 
astray. 


CHAPTER IV. 


MARCHING ALONG, 


ORWARTS! — forwair-r-r-ds, my Frau- 



leins!’’ exclaimed the strong, good- 


natured voice of Frau Schulze as she 
marshaled the scholars in the gymnasium, two 
by two, one May afternoon. She was a spare, 
active, pleasant, indefatigable German woman 
from a town some miles off, where her husband, 
an elderly Herr Professor, kept a flourishing 
seminary for hoys, who came twice a week to 
Mount Cedar, teaching German before dinner 
and gymnastics afterwards. ^‘To ze right — 
Vorwdrts ! — so 

Eighty girls, in their loose, simple school 
uniform were marching, step by step, to the 
martial air that Madame Verrier was j)laying 
on the piano, and Miss Clive, her long, dark, 
half nun-like and half scholastic dress that she 
affected in the schoolroom exchanged for one 
suited to gymnastics, walked like a commanding 
officer by Frau Schulze’s side. Mrs. Hill was 
upstairs with one of her frequent attacks of 
sick headache, hut her niece, Dorinda Davis, a 
small, slight, pale, timid young person of 


51 


52 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


twenty- two, whom the girls called ‘^poor 
Dorinda’^ and ^Hhe Mouse,’’ and was always 
nervous, and was kept by her aunt as a teacher 
out of charity, brought up the rear. 

Frau Schulze is a plain, unromantic figure, 
but the train she leads is an attractive one. 
All those young heads, with rich, flowing locks 
(one of Miss Clive’s regulations decreed that 
each girl must wear her hair turned back, in the 
style once known as la Chinoise/^ with a 
round comb, and hanging down either loose or 
in a braid upon her shoulders), those red 
cheeks and slender forms moving in rhythmic 
measure, are a sight worth seeing as they troop 
along the wide gymnasium like soldiers, or, 
breaking into single file and double quick,” 
run in and out between poles and bars on either 
side, or, forming into long lines, advance in one 
broad phalanx up the room, dividing into ranks 
of two and returning to begin again. Eanged 
according to size, not age, the train was headed 
by Verena and Kate, smallest, though not 
youngest, of the scholars, keenly enjoying what 
to them was an imaginative delight which would 
hardly have been prized in like measure by 
their schoolmates, who nearly all marched along 
in a very business-like sort of way, without 
appearing in the least excited by the motions or 
the music. Conversation, of course, was not 
encouraged, but a good deal of talk in low tones 
went on. 


MARCHING ALONG. 


53 


‘‘Kate!^’ Verena wliispered eagerly, with a 
quick, flashing glance from her dark-gray eyes, 
‘ ‘ doesn ’t this marching to music make you think 
of something wild and poetic, I can^t tell exactly 
what — but it all seems to symbolize something, 
I feel like a young soldier going on to battle 
through a wide, strange country, or as if I were 
one of Garibaldi’s Thousand of Marsala — or 
else a Hungarian going to fight the Austrians 
as my mother’s father did in ’49, though I 
wouldn ’t say it to anyone but you. ’ ’ 

Kate tightened her hold of Verena ’s hand 
as, at a certain signal, each couple raised their 
joined hands above their heads. 

^ ^ Feel it ? I felt it when I first marched here, 
five years ago! It makes me think of wild, 
beautiful allegories like ‘The Vast Army’ and 
Hans Andersen’s stories, and then, as Mrs. 
Hemans says, ‘I dream of all things free’ — 
till I long to burst out singing — and to cry, 
too.” Kate’s imperfect efforts to express her 
fancies came to a sudden end as Frau Schulze 
ordered the ranks to open and march in single 
file round opposite sides of the room. 

Verena nodded a joyful assent to her friend’s 
dreamings, and, full of her own visions, 
marched away at the head of her long column, 
perfectly happy for the moment, able to revel in 
keen bodily exercise and to cast off her frequent 
melancholy as she led her troop close behind 


54 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

Fran Sclinlze to meet Kate, with her train, fol- 
lowing Miss Clive at the farther end of the 
room, when, reuniting, they ran, two by two, 
along the whole length of the gymnasium, and 
halted before the high window looking towards 
the west. 

The sky was covered by the leaden clouds 
of an approaching storm. Verena availed her- 
self of the pause between two exercises to climb 
up to a perch upon the horizontal bars, where 
she could sit and look out through the open 
upper half of the window into those dark gray 
masses scudding before the wind that whirled 
aloft great wreaths of dust and bent the 
branches of the maples till they showed the 
white undersides of their fresh young leaves. 
She would have liked to rush out into the gar- 
den to watch the lurid sky, but had to content 
herself with alternately looking out of the win- 
dow and down upon the troop of girls, many 
of whom pressed together as if for mutual pro- 
tection, uttering little screams whenever there 
came a flash of lightning or the thunder 
growled. 

‘‘Silly geese! Just pure atfectation, half of 
it ! ’ ^ exclaimed a clear, determined voice ; a nd 
Verena, starting, beheld the small, nimble form 
of Fanny Fox perched among the bars at her 
side. Though greatly admiring the Hungarian, 
and admired in turn, somewhat to Kate^s seciret 


MARCHING ALONG. 


55 


annoyance, she was not altogether a welcome 
visitor at this moment to her new classmate, 
who much preferred to enjoy her dreams and 
her view of the storm clouds undisturbed, but 
strove hard, and with success, to look gay and 
careless as Fanny continued : 

‘‘They do it for etfect, because they fancy 
it^s fine to be afraid of lightning. Julia there, 
with all her faults, isn’t cowardly — quite the 
opposite — but she likes to plague the little ones 
into believing there’s something to be scared 
at. Look, how she squeals and hides her eyes 
at every flash ! Poor Dorinda is really nervous, 
but she does her best to hide it — and Kate 
enjoys the commotion. See how Queen Bess 
shakes her by the shoulder and scolds ; but Kate 
doesn’t mind, she’s otf with Brownie, and those 
youngsters who admire her.” Fanny rattled 
off a string of similar comments upon her 
schoolmates, interspersed with compliments on 
her skill as a gymnast and freedom from fear of 
thunderstorms, to Verena, who sat, meanwhile, 
with her eyes fixed upon the wild gray sky, 
longing to be alone, or anywhere undisturbed 
by small talk, wondering silently at the differ- 
ence between herself and Fanny, whose only 
impression from all the grand tumult of nature 
seemed to be amusement at the commotion it 
caused among the girls. But she knew enough 
of school policy to hide her weariness of Fanny’s 


56 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


chatter, and kept answering with her thoughts 
far away, unwilling to repel ' the advances of 
her lively companion, who, as usual, showed 
great readiness to initiate her into all the gos- 
sip current among the pupils. 

‘‘Fraulein Forster! My little Magyar 
maiden, where art thouF’ cried Frau Schulze 
suddenly, in German, looking round for Verena, 
who, as half foreign, and chattering Deutsch 
quite as readily as her native Hungarian, was, 
like Kate, an especial favorite with the enthusi- 
astic teacher of the German tongue. A few 
rapid sentences in that language, and the 
repeated sound of her own name, roused 
Verena from her dreams to the sight of her 
comrades ranged in orderly ranks at one end 
of the room, while Frau Schulze, her round, 
motherly face flushed with heat and excitement, 
stood with outspread arms, in the middle of the 
floor, looking up at her. 

‘‘A thunderstorm is drawing near,^^ went on 
the Frau, in German, extending her hands 
toward the lurid skies. ^‘Yes, that is glorious 
— and thou, little dreamer from a foreign land, 
thou lovest to gaze into the great storm clouds. 
I love it, too; but the hour flies so swiftly by. 
What should I do if all thy fellow-pupils were 
poet souls, like thee and thy friend with the 
golden locks. Come down again, beloved 
child ! ^ ’ 


marching along. 


57 


Fanny saw only the comic side, the amused 
faces of her comrades at Frau Schulze’s some- 
what grotesque appearance, and, suppressing 
a smile, slid quietly down to the floor. Verena, 
of course, enjoyed the kind soul’s enthusiasm, 
glad to feel that some one besides Kate could 
understand why she loved to watch the storm, 
now dashing in wild showers against the closed 
windows. With a quick reply in German, 
which, therefore, ran less risk of being laughed 
at, Verena slipped lightly from her perch to 
join Kate in the next exercise of swinging along 
the whole length of the gymnasium on the 
rings, keenly enjoying the praises won by their 
agility. 

The other girls followed in turn, while the 
Frau, economical of time, sent those who had 
finished to practice with wands under Miss 
Clive. Kate, Verena and Brownie, meanwhile, 
had contrived to betake themselves to the 
springing-board, indulging in sundry feats of 
their own invention. Brownie, neglecting 
Kate’s injunction to ^Gake hold of hands,” 
soon found herself flying out through the 
air, and alighting almost on the shoulders 
of Marion Boyd, a gentle girl of eleven, who 
had not been long at school, and whom Brownie 
liked to befriend when homesick or sad, 
Marion was standing in the back row of the 
wand exercisers, holding her long, polished 


58 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


staff with extended arms above her head, when, 
with a cry of warning that came too late, 
Brownie fell against her from behind, knocking 
the wand from her grasp and rolling with her 
upon the floor. Frightened rather than hurt, 
the two children were too giddy and startled 
to rise immediately, and an eager crowd gath- 
ered round them, while Frau Schulze, full of 
sympathy, and Miss Clive, loudly talking and 
reproving, hurried to the spot. 

‘^Look at Verena!’^ suddenly exclaimed 
Grace Howard, and Frau Schulze, glancing 
upwards, uttered a cry of astonishment, while 
the rest, to their surprise and dread, beheld the 
small, slender figure tossing wildly far above 
among ropes, sliding bars and ladders which 
filled the center of the ceiling directly under the 
skylight, performing, with apparent ease and 
evident enjoyment, a variety of impromptu 
feats at a perilous height above the floor. 

‘‘She must have climbed there while Miss 
Clive was speaking,^’ murmured Agnes in dis- 
may. “Oh, what will that Hungarian child do 
next 1 ’ ’ 

“The general sentiment of our school, my 
dear, ’ ^ said Fanny. ‘ ‘ Verena is the best excite- 
ment we have ever had yet; so don’t preach at 
her. ’ ’ 

Kate’s bright blue eyes as she gazed aloft 
sparkled with admiration of her friend’s 


MARCHING ALONG. 


59 


prowess and great longing to do likewise. 
Seized by a sudden wish for a nearer view of 
the grand storm clouds, Verena had fearlessly 
mounted, with her usual agility, to the region 
of the skylight, against which the rain beat 
down with all its fury. Had no one noticed her 
she would have stayed there, silently working off 
her own exultant pleasure in the storm by rapid 
motion; but having once become an object of 
most anxious interest to all present, it was not 
in schoolgirl nature in general, or in her own, 
to forego prolonging the sensation she had 
caused. 

^ ^ How dreadful ; how will she ever get down ; 
how terribly near she seems to those flashes 
of lightning!’^ were the awe-stricken comments 
of the others; while Miss Clive, to the general 
surprise, instead of beginning a rebuke, turned 
away and marched silently out of the room. 

‘‘Now for fun,^^ whispered Fanny to Grace, 
“when the General says not a word, but frowns, 
and stalks off like the Tragic Muse, you may 
know that a greater storm than this is brew- 
ing. ’ ’ 

“Verena has fascinated even the General up 
to a certain point, Grace replied. “She 
enjoys the foreign element and her delightful, 
original way of startling everyone; and Frau 
Schulze adores her next to Kate. Oh, just look 
at the poor woman, with her arms outstretched 


60 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


towards her ^liebes Kind/ beseeching her to 
come down or she will break her heart! I 
should say the ^liebes Kind^ ran far more risk 
of breaking her own neck. ^ ’ 

Miss Clive, whose righteous indignation at 
Verena’s foolhardiness was not unmingled with 
a certain admiration of her daring, had hurried 
otf to lay the case before Mrs. Hill, hoping 
that the unmanageable girl might be impressed 
by the show of authority residing in that poor, 
nervous lady, though it was a show and not 
much more. Arrived in her chief’s room she 
found the place preoccupied by Miss Almira, 
come to report some domestic emergency, upon 
hearing which Miss Clive’s thoughts took a new 
direction, and Verena’s misdeeds fell into the 
background. Meanwhile Frau Schulze, re- 
lieved by the departure of the ^ ‘ General, ’ ’ stood 
holding an excited half-German, half-English 
parley with Verena, beginning with a rebuke, 
but gradually passing into irrepressible 
admiration of her agility, and ending with an 
eager questioning as to how she had contrived 
to do it. To all of which the culprit, highly 
elated, answered merrily from her perch aloft, 
her head almost touching the skylight, while 
the girls stood looking up at her. Kate’s face 
betrayed such a wish to imitate her dangerous 
example that the Frau extracted from her a 
promise, reluctantly given, but faithfully kept, 


MARCHING ALONG. 


61 


of never attempting such foolhardy perform- 
ances, and, having ordered some older girls to 
drag out two of the mattresses to the middle 
of the floor, commanded Verena to descend. 

Verena’s enjoyment of the scene redoubled 
while, though obeying, she professed to find 
difficulty in coming down, keeping her audience 
in a state of breathless wonder, and gaining , 
time for a variety of perilous-looking twists 
and turns, often hanging by one hand, and 
swinging herself to and fro with as much ease 
and coolness as if she had been just above the 
floor. Frau Schulze kept up a volley of direc- 
tions, walking up and down, with outspread 
arms, beneath her wilful pupil, ready to catch 
her if she fell. Madame Verrier stood ejacu- 
lating, ciel, ma pauvre petite!’^ and the 
girls uttered little squeals of sympathetic ter- 
ror, while Kate and Brownie hardly breathed 
until their friend, flushed, panting, but trium- 
phant, landed safely on the floor. Their wel- 
come was cut short by Frau Schulze, who 
greeted Verena with a tremendous embrace, 
adjuring her in German never, never to attempt 
such tricks again. 

‘^But I did not hurt myself — and it was so 
exciting!’’ said the culprit, in English, for the 
benefit of her admiring audience. 

The Frau’s reply was lost in ardent mur- 
murs in her native tongue, and she would prob- 


62 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


ably have continued to vent her emotion had 
not Elisabeth Armstrong, unwilling to lose 
time, and Julia Maxwell, impatient of the atten- 
tion excited by ‘‘that queer, foreign little mad 
monkey, ’ ’ simultaneously reminded her that the 
lesson was not yet over. Verena, dancing with 
spirits, started from the Frau’s encircling arms 
as she sat on a bench, hugging her over and 
over again, and ran to take her place in the 
ranks beside Kate. 

Again the girls formed into line for the final 
march. The storm was dying away into the 
distance, the windows were opened and a fresh 
breeze blew up from the blossoming garden. 
The western sky was growing clear. Madame 
Verrier seated herself at the piano and struck 
up Garibaldi’s Hymn, at the urgent entreaty 
of Kate, who felt as if she would gladly have 
sung it, to work otf her excitement. Flushed 
and radiant, so that she looked pretty, even by 
Verena ’s side, and by contrast, she marched 
on, full of innocent, ideal happiness, her blue 
eyes sparkling, her ever-active imagination 
gathering from the most ordinary things a 
wealth of romance and poetry. It was not the 
mere love for theatrical display (as she, long 
after, tried to describe it to a friend), but a 
strangely mingled feeling of passionate love for 
the beautiful in itself, and an irrepressible 
desire to make a part of anything dramatic or 


MARCHING ALONG. 


63 


artistic that might be going on. Everything, 
as she had said to Verena — the marching, the 
snnset light, the music— seemed to suggest 
something grand or wonderful, such as she had 
read or dreamed about ; she felt as if she owned 
one more sense than the rest of her companions, 
and could catch poetic glimpses of some 
brighter, fairer world. 

^‘Kate, you’re in the clouds yet, looking at 
the sky and beating time with your foot, ’ ’ began 
Fanny, as usual, when, the lesson over and 
Frau Schulze gone, a small knot of girls 
lingered in the gymnasium. ‘‘Planning your 
future career, I suppose — have you settled your 
wedding 1 ’ 

“Nonsense!” indignantly cried Kate, and, as 
though to get farther out of “Foxey’s” reach, 
she mounted higher on the range of horizontal 
bars where they were perched, in front of the 
western window. 

“Weddings aren’t much in your line, then,” 
Fanny went on, with a sly wink at her laughing 
companions. “I have it — Kate is going to be 
a doctress, or a lady lawyer, or a ‘clergy- 
woman’ (here Cornie shook with mirth), or 

a professoress, or” Kate, dashed down 

from her happy dreams, grew redder still, mur- 
muring some indistinct reply. 

“A lecturer — no, an authoress,” quietly 
added Fanny, her keen, dark eyes glancing up 


64 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


into Kate’s blue ones, wliicli for the moment 
were wet with tears, partly of vexation and 
partly from a jumble of feelings not even clear 
to herself. ^‘Or, perhaps, a poetess — how 
would that do?” 

Kate’s features were distorted by a nervous 
laugh, while she writhed still farther along the 
smooth bar, away from the others, answering 
with a string of desperate nonsense to the 
unmerciful raillery which was now let loose. 

^^You, Verena,” went on Fanny, finally 
ceasing to torment Kate, ^^are set down for 
an artist, of course — or a singer — or an actress, 
and a reciter of dramatic poetry, or all put 
together, for you could do it.” 

Fanny’s tone became earnest. Verena ’s face 
kindled. The rest looked up at her with admir- 
ing interest as she suddenly rose and remained 
standing lightly poised upon the bar, both arms 
outspread and clinging to another bar above, 
her finely curved lips (what Frau Schulze 
called the ‘‘artist mouth”) just parted, her 
dark-gray eyes, so deeply shaded by their brows 
and lashes, and with such large, dilated pupils 
that they nearly always seemed black, gazing 
with a rapt expression far away into the bright 
sunset sky. She looked like the embodiment 
of some young genius suddenly awakening to 
the call to a high destiny, to Kate, who had 
listened to the roll of Verena ’s gifts with a 


MARCHING ALONG. 


65 


rush of passionate longing and guileless envy, 
mingled with relief because the one career which 
teasing Fanny had seriously alluded to for 
Kate herself had not been prophesied by her 
for Verena also.. 

It was fortunate for Kate, and her teachers 
likewise, that nothing had occurred to develop 
her latent capacity for jealousy in any of the 
studies wherein she really labored to excel. 
Verena, though a fair scholar, did not at all 
contest the headship of the class in any English 
branches, while her proficiency in languages 
was what might be expected from her foreign 
schooling and Hungarian blood. Drawing and 
music, for neither of which Kate showed much 
talent, were Verena ’s forte, and she had soon 
been promoted to an important place in the 
evening choir by Madame Verrier, delighted 
with her new pupiFs full contralto voice. It 
was only in bodily exercises, dancing and gym- 
nastics that these two most prickly Thistles of 
Mount Cedar seemed really on a level with each 
other. Yet, oh! — to possess some bright out- 
ward gift, inseparably interwoven with her own 
personality, Kate thought, as she heard Verena 
marked out as able, if she chose, to win success 
in all the things, save one, which she herself 
all her life had longed for — and with this silent 
envy came a wild thrill of joy and power and 
exultation in the gift of expression that was 


5 


66 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

hers; a sense of utter yearning and dejection 
on the one hand, and a fullness of expanding 
life and richness on the other. The rush of 
mingled joy and pain was so strong that it was 
a relief when Cornie began talking nonsense, 
Verena, to their surprise, having shown no 
inclination to pursue the topic of her future; 
and Fanny ^s attention soon returned to her 
gymnastic exploits. 

^‘She was brave to keep climbing up there 
like a sailor hoy, with the lightning flashing in 
her eyes,” said Cornie. 

‘‘She made me think of Ariel,” put in Kate. 

“Now, Kate!” laughed Fanny, “don’t you 
know yet how superfluous it is to waste your 
Shakespearian allusions on our Cornelia, who 
isn’t likely to resemble her antique namesake, 
for she can’t remember the difference between 
‘Hail, holy Light,’ that the General is forever 
setting us to spout, and ‘Lead, kindly Light,’ 
which we sing so often; and I’m sure she’ll 
take years to clear up her terrible confusion 
between those three distinguished worthies, 
Thomas a-Kempis, Thomas Aquinas and 
Thomas a-Becket.” 

Cornie ’s imperturbable good humor enabled 
her to join in the laugh against her with a 
happy serenity which surprised even Brownie 
and made Kate sigh to he as comfortably 
pachydermatous as her old friend, who, as the 


MARCHING ALONG, 


67 


merriment subsided, burst out singing in the 
clear mezzo-soprano voice that was her one 
great gift and which Kate not untruly sus- 
pected her of wishing to display just now as an 
offset to Fanny’s sauciness, with the words of 
a song that Miss Clive had, not altogether skil- 
fully, adapted from a well-known war poem, 
altering, omitting and rewriting to suit her 
capricious fancy, and setting it to the tune of 
Garibaldi’s hymn, ‘‘To Arms.” 

“Marching along, in the morn’s early glow. 
On to the battlefield, brothers, we go ! ” 

Kate, thrilled by the first notes of what Frau 
Schulze called that “sunny music,” less like a 
battle-cry than a song of rejoicing, slid down 
and rejoined the group. Cornie sang on, the 
rest chiming in chorus : 

‘ ‘ Marching along, we are marching along ! 

Gird on the armor, and be marching along!” 

“But, girls,” began Brownie, “it shouldn’t 
be ‘brothers’ for us.” 

“Dear child, you don’t understand,” cried 
Kate. “If it said ‘sisters,’ there wouldn’t be 
any poetry. Can’t you see that all the stir and 
the fire of it is in the idea of our being sol- 
diers? ‘Sisters’ seems only to suggest some- 
thing dreary and dull” 

“Yes,” broke in Fanny, “we know you have 
dismal associations with that word.” 

‘ ‘ I mean, ’ ’ Kate went on, too excited to heed 


68 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


the interruption, ‘Hliat when we say ^ brothers^ 
it seems to send a thrill through us, as if we 
might look forward to a future. But those 
verses are too tame. They should say more 
about the young soldiers — like those in ^The 
Vast Army,’ Brownie, you understand that — 
marching on, side by side, with their banners 
flying in the morning sunlight, and the sound 
of their music rolling over the hills. Oh! it 

should be like the blast of a trumpet” 

^‘You had better rewrite it for us,” said 
Fanny; while Cornie again burst out singing, 
and Kate, filled with feelings that made her 
restless, climbed back to where Verena, singing, 
yet looking strangely sad, stood with her eyes 
fixed upon the glowing sky. Clear golden light 
streamed from the west; the grass and trees 
shone with glittering raindrops. A fresh even- 
ing breeze blew sweet scents through the open 
windows and brought a soft rustle of full- 
leaved maples to mingle with the music. 

^We are living, we are dwelling 
In a grand and awful time. 

In an age on ages telling; 

To he living is sublime ! ’ ” 

sang Cornie, pealing out the opening lines of 
^‘Watchwords” until the gymnasium echoed 
with the rich fullness of her single voice before 
it was joined by the others : 

“ ‘ To he living is sublime ! ’ ” 


MARCHING ALONG. 


69 


What did that soldierly summons mean for 
them, Kate wondered. Cornie sang on for the 
mere pleasure of singing; sentiment was apt 
to be lost on her. And yet, with her strength 
and beauty, her sound nerves and healthy 
nature, where practical abilities and a calm, 
life-enjoying temperament went far to com- 
pensate for the lack of intellectuality, she was 
well equipped for life’s battle. More of con- 
stant, steady happiness and of usefulness might 
be prophesied for her than would be likely to 
fall to the lot of Verena and Kate, with their 
innate sensitiveness, excitability and morbid ten- 
dency to brood over the darker side, joined to 
the artist-nature’s endless susceptibility to 
pain. 

Verena had crouched down upon the high 
bar, her drooping head supported by one list- 
less hand. All the recent fire and exaltation 
had died out of her face, now overspread by 
a deep shade of apparently causeless melan- 
choly. Kate looked thrice as happy just then 
as, humming to herself, she slid down and, 
catching a ring, whirled herself in wild gyra- 
tions round and round. 

The others, talking and laughing, did not 
hear the door open; but Verena, glancing back, 
beheld Kate lifted bodily down from the ring 
by Agnes Leslie, who appeared to be striving to 
keep her from flying into a passion with Elisa- 


70 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

beth, who, passing the gymnasium, had entered 
with a grim determination to put a stop to the 
noise. Agnes, following in the hope of pre- 
venting a quarrel, found her efforts in vain. 
Elisabeth’s rebuke was met by a half -jesting, 
half-angry protest from the girls as, rising in a 
body, they rushed forward, rescued Kate by 
force from Agnes’ friendly grasp, and treated 

Queen Bess” to a few plain home truths 
regarding her fondness for meddling and play- 
ing the amateur governess. In vain she 
scolded, and Agnes implored quiet; the wild 
troop, headed by Verena, drowned the voices 
of their mentors by their own mocking chorus, 
and, after capering madly round them, dashed 
past them down the stairs and out of doors. 

^‘They are wilder than ever this evening!” 
sighed Agnes, sinking down on a mattress as if 
exhausted. ‘‘And, of course, it is all Verena ’s 
doing!” 

“She is a dreadful, thoughtless, reckless 
girl!” Elisabeth exclaimed vehemently, “and 
the worst example for Kate. She is too child^ 
ish. She needs some steady companion who 
despises silly tricks, and would encourage 
her to care more about her studies and culti- 
vating her mind. ’ ’ 

“Miss Clive told Kate yesterday that her 
mind was uncompionly well cultivated for her 
age,” said Agnes, “but the praise seemed to 
upset her.” 


MARCHING ALONG. 


7i 


Elisabeth’s grave face relaxed somewhat; but 
she still felt and looked distressed about her 
sister, whom she really cared for more than 
the girls believed; while the young madcap, 
meanwhile, was racing up and down the flag- 
paved walks, animating Verena and the other 
Thistles to all sorts of wild games, and uplift- 
ing her high, eager voice into the red twilight 
air with : 

^ ‘ Marching along ! we are marching along ! ’ ’ 


CHAPTER V. 


A BAD SATURDAY. 

‘‘ A Miss Almira to take us 

ZA out. She’s going on an errand, and 
^ ^ it’s Saturday, and this sort of warm, 
lazy May morning makes me frantic to get 
away from the school noise,” pleaded Kate, 
flinging her arms round her tall friend as they 
stood in the garden, resounding with the merry 
clatter of girls enjoying their weekly holiday. 
‘‘I haven’t courage to ask her, and Brownie 
won’t, and Cornie and Verena daren’t, because 
they got into hot water yesterday. Only — 
don’t let Fanny know, for she would want to 
join us, and tease, and spoil the freedom of it.” 

Agnes demurred at first, but accepted the 
mission, and in about half an hour the party of 
six set out. Miss Almira, as she walked on by 
Agnes’ side through the lovely rolling country, 
escaping for a while from the depressing influ- 
ences of her painful position, felt her weary 
heart grow lighter and soothed hy an unwonted 
sense of freedom and repose; while the four 
younger girls went tearing on in advance, keep- 


A BAD SATURDAY. 


73 


ing out of hearing, and chattering as fast as 
possible. 

Hurrah!’’ cried Brownie, ‘4iow delightful 
it is to get out ! ’ ’ 

^Hsn’t it?” said Cornie, pulling a parcel of 
lemon candy from her pocket. ‘‘Help your- 
selves, I have plenty more tucked safely away 
where neither General, Dragon, nor Mouse will 
ever find it. And I have mint stick, too, but 
didn’t bring any lest our respected conductress 
yonder might smell the delicious odor and 
institute a search at home.” 

Laughing and eating, they descended the hill 
and passed through a grove which completely 
shut out the view of the school above. 

“Oh, this is heavenly!” sighed Kate, “to get 
really away from noises, and pianos, and be 
able to enjoy the spirit of the woods !” 

‘ ‘ Which we never can when the General takes 
us,” broke in Cornie, in the pauses of sucking 
candy. “She gives us no peace, hut keeps 
poking after wretched little leaves, and peb- 
bles, and horrid specimens of botany and 
geology, and wonders that we all don’t want to 
do it.” 

“Yes,” said Kate, indignantly, “she thinks 
then of nothing hut science, though she’s so 
fond of poetry. I hate those heavy things, 
botany, and chemistry, and so forth ; they were 
the plague of my life almost as soon as I knew 


74 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

liow to read; so I detest them, and want some- 
thing fanciful, with poetry in it, Verena, as you 
do. But I have my own ideal world, where 
nobody can interfere with me, like ‘Tom o’ 
Bedlam,’ in that song: 

“ ‘With a host of furious fancies 
Whereof I am commander ; 

With a burning spear, and a horse of air 
Through the wilderness I wander,’ ” 

Miss Almira, catching the uncanny rhymes, 
ordered Kate to stop singing such nonsense, 
and she had to obey, growling to Verena that 
she always was sure to get taken down just 
whenever she was worked up to anything de- 
lightful; while the Hungarian consoled her by 
promising to teach her some of Petofi’s war 
songs in the original Magyar, which even the 
Dragon would be forced to respect as a foreign 
tongue intended for general improvement. 
Having performed their errand, the party 
stopped to rest on a rising ground known as 
Martin’s Hill, its shady summit being crowned 
by a small school-house which to-day, of course, 
was closed. 

Agnes and her teacher sat down on a bench 
in the playground, while the four girls, eager 
and untired, began exploring in all directions. 
Poor Almira, spent with walking, and only too 
thankful for a brief respite from duty, did not 


A BAD SATURDAY. 


75 


exercise her usnal strict surveillance after the 
first few minutes, but fell into a semi-confiden- 
tial talk with her sympathizing pupil, who was 
able to feel for her troubles with rebellious 
scholars, unruly or inefficient servants, Mrs. 
Hill’s poor health, and Miss Dorinda’s languid 
inertia, with the crowning trial of Miss Clive’s 
overbearing ways and unsparing tongue. Even 
her own kindly impulses were often ridiculed 
or stamped upon by Miss Clive, who, if she 
caught Almira furtively trying to console some 
homesick pupil, would oppose her, and accuse 
her of seeking to spoil the child. Only one 
under-teacher — a Mrs. Brownlow, who had no 
especial influence — was friendly towards her; 
for Miss Benson disliked her, and Madame Ver- 
rier, though kindly and well bred, was too 
unaccustomed to talking English for her to con- 
verse with Almira, who in turn shrank from 
airing her rather scanty store of French. But, 
while she thus expanded toward Agnes, a woe- 
ful piece of mischief was going on. 

Battling in vain at the locked entrance of the 
school, the girls had run round to the back end, 
quite out of Miss Almira’s sight, where they 
discovered a window, whose broken shutters 
left it unprotected. In a moment four eager 
hands raised the sash, four pairs of curious 
eyes peered into the dark interior, four mis- 
chief-loving heads were filled with sudden 


76 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


visions of foolish pranks, while Brownie whis- 
pered, ^^CanT we get inV^ 

^‘That’s soon done,’^ said Kate, as, with the 
help of a stone beneath the window, she scram- 
bled up on to the narrow sill and dropped 
inside. Brownie and the two others followed. 

^‘Here we are!’^ exclaimed Cornie trium- 
phantly. ‘ ‘ There ’s not much to be seen, though, 
in this faint light, and we darenT open those 
front windows or the Dragon will catch us. 
What a place! Just look at those old hacked, 
dreary desks and benches! I couldn’t study in 
such a hole. ’ ’ 

‘‘You couldn’t study very hard anyhere, it’s 
my private opinion,” muttered Kate. “Look, 
here ’s a horrible old waterproof cloak left hang- 
ing in this corner, alongside of a towel. It 
must belong to the schoolmistress. Oh, This- 
tles ; I ’ll tell you what we ’ll do ! ” 

Eagerness for a frolic brought Verena from 
the blackboard, where she had begun to draw 
a caricature of Miss Almira, and Brownie from 
exploring the depths of a pile of old school- 
books, while Kate hurriedly went on, “We’ll 
dress up a figure of the ‘ schoolmarm, ’ and put 
it in her chair, and she’ll find it the first thing 
when she comes on Monday morning. Give 
me that old broom, Cornie, there by the chim- 
ney; that will make a foundation for the cloak 
to cover, and we’ll put something on her head, 


A BAD SATURDAY. 


77 


and a spelling book — no, an arithmetic, that’s 
infinitely worse, on the desk before her, and a 
long switch by her side ’ ’ 

‘‘And a pipe in her mouth,” suggested 
Verena, producing a broken-stemmed clay pipe, 
probably used for blowing soap bubbles, which 
she had found lying in a corner. Brownie stood 
silently looking on. 

“Hurry!” cried Kate, “everyone must help 
or we won’t get through iDefore the Dragon calls 
us. There, I’ve got the schoolmarm neatly 
draped ! Get out of that window. Brownie 
dear, and pick me a nice long switch of some 
sort ; I can’t find any rod in here, birching is out 
of fashion. Why, Brownie, won’t you go?” 

“But I don’t think we have any right to play 
tricks and turn things upside-down,” began 
Brownie, with some hesitation. “I didn’t mind 
just climbing in; I know I proposed it; but I 
think we ought to be satisfied with looking 
round ; and I know Agnes would say so, too. ’ ’ 

“Nonsense!” replied Kate, whose conscience, 
however, said just the same thing, only she was 
determined not to listen to it. “Nobody will 
be hurt, and we only want a little fun. Well, 
I must go myself. Twist that towel round the 
broom end, Cornie, so as to make her a face, 
and put the tin basin on, Verena, upside-down, 
over that.” 

“I can make her a better face,” said Verena, 


78 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


snatching a sheet of paper from the desk and 
proceeding to draw a pen-and-ink set of grew- 
some features. ‘‘I wish I knew the school- 
marm’s style, to hit off her looks.” 

She’s a sharp-cut Yankee,” said Cornie, 
choking with mirth as she watched Verena 
dash otf her sketch, encircled by Medusa-like 
locks. ^‘Oh, yes; that’s very like her! How 
splendidly you draw!” Brownie forgot her 
scruples and laughed heartily as Verena pinned 
the paper face in front of the broom head, 
sticking the pipe through a hole in the lips. 
Kate returned with a long switch of maple, 
stripped of its leaves, and propped it close to 
the schoolmarm’s side. Even Brownie caught 
the full infection of mischief, and hunted out 
the worst of the torn old arithmetic books to 
spread open before her. Gum shoes, of doubt- 
ful age and huge proportions, were during this 
search discovered, and instantly seized upon to 
serve as feet protruding from beneath the cloak. 
Hands were supplied by a pair of ragged 
woolen mittens which T'erena extracted from a 
desk. Kate twisted up an old newspaper, 
which had evidently contained somebody’s 
lunch, into a fool’s cap wherewith to crown 
the already towering head. Verena rushed 
again to the blackboard and drew caricatures 
of all her teachers, while Kate improved upon 
her friend’s sketch of Miss Almira by scrawling 
and singing: 


A BAD SATURDAY, 


79 


‘Hence, ye horrors of Subtraction! 
Hence, ye demons of distraction. 

Proper and Improper Fraction! 

Woe to him whose weary mission 
Was inventing Long Addition! 

Decimals, your endless number 
Haunts my weary brain in slumber ! 

Boots (of dentist’s chair suggestive) 

To extract ye makes me restive’ ” 

Here Brownie burst out with such a peal of 
laughter that Kate stopped, afraid of being 
heard by the two unsuspecting guardians out- 
side. 

“We must go,” she exclaimed reluctantly. 
“Well, we’ve produced something worth seeing 
in the Guy Fawkes line ! What would the 
Saints of our class think of us?” 

“They won’t be asked their opinion,” said 
Cornie, looking round to see if there remained 
any other way of adorning the effigy. “Just 
think, girls, what a sensation there’ll be on 
Monday morning when the schoolmarm arrives 
and finds her double seated in the chair ! AVhat 
wouldn’t I give to see the fun. I shall be all 
the time thinking of it ! ” 

“So shall I; but, for pity’s sake, have the 
sense to keep quiet, and don’t begin nudging 
me, and whispering about it till the General 
catches us,” broke in Kate, who, with Verena, 
was busily scrawling certain observations sup- 


80 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


posed to proceed from the schoolmarm’s 
month. 

‘^We’re taking a left-handed revenge on the 
whole race of teachers/’ laughed the Hun- 
garian. mind feels quite relieved now 

from that scowl the General gave me yesterday 
when I blundered about acids and alkalies. 
Cornie, don’t betray us by dropping your hand- 
kerchief with your name on it. Hark! Eun! 
Agnes is calling us ! ” 

Miss Almira, suddenly roused from her 
peaceful talk by remarking the absence of her 
younger charges, had sent Agnes to look for 
them at the back of the school, while she herself 
went searching in another direction. Luckily 
for the conspirators, Agnes’ call, as she left her 
seat, gave them just time to scramble out of 
the window and meet her by the side of the 
building with as innocent faces as they could 
muster. 

Kate was flushed and talking volubly. 
Verena looked wilder, more foreign and defiant 
than ever, while Cornie ’s handsome features 
wore an expression of insouciance so evidently 
assumed that Agnes, suspecting mischief, but 
unwilling to ask questions, contented herself 
with joining Brownie, who had lingered behind 
to shut the window. Miss Almira’s questions 
upon seeing them were carelessly answered by 
Cornie and Kate to the etfect that they had 


A BAD SATURDAY. 


81 

been ‘^looking about them/^ and Kate exerted 
lierself to divert the current of lier teacher’s 
thoughts by instantly engaging her in convert 
sation upon sundry topics wherein Agnes well 
knew that her young friend took no interest. 
Almira, poor weary soul, was not just then in 
her usual inquisitorial mood, but Agnes noted 
all, and, even without the rest, little Brownie’s 
ill-concealed uneasiness would have struck her. 
Late in the afternoon, happening to meet Agnes 
alone in the garden, poor Brownie, yielding to 
a sudden impulse to ease her burdened con- 
science, flung her arms round her, and detained 
her with a quick confession, many words of 
ardent self-reproach, and wild petitions not to 
tell the authorities, and bring trouble upon the 
others. 

Agnes, greatly worried, sought to soothe the 
child, but seized the first opportunity of speak- 
ing to Kate, Verena and Cornie in private, to 
acquaint them with Brownie’s confession, which 
the latter seemed to fear must render them her 
enemies henceforth. The three culprits, 
though somewhat dismayed, listened without 
much emotion until Agnes, wrought up into 
over-scrupulous zeal, came to the point of her 
address, which was that their absurd mischief 
must be undone, the ^^schoolmarm” demolished 
and things restored to their normal condition 
in the school-house before Monday morning. 


82 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


or else much trouble between the schoolmistress 
and her scholars, some of whom she would 
accuse of the trick, would be the result. 

^^Oh, but Agnes, you don’t mean it?” im- 
plored Kate. ‘A¥e can’t go there now, in the 
twilight — and you’ve no idea how delightfully 
grewsome the schoolmarm looks, sitting there 
in state, in the rusty old waterproof, and a 
switch five feet long, and a fool’s cap on her 
head, and a horrid, short pipe sticking out of 
her mouth.” 

Agnes, Mentor though she was, could not 
repress a smile. 

^‘And, besides,” Kate went on, ^^no one will 
ever suspect the country children, for they 
couldn’t possibly have written all the things 
we did on the blackboard, and not one of them 
could have drawn such a capital face as Verena 
did without the slightest trouble.” 

Agnes smiled anew, but declared it made mat- 
ters worse, for the writings and the drawings 
might be traced to their authors. Verena was 
loud in her indignation at what she termed 
Brownie’s treachery, wishing that the child 
might never be allowed to join in their sports 
again ; to all of which Agnes, eager to withdraw 
her from such wild company, could have said 
“Amen.” Cornie, though vexed at what she 
thought Brownie’s foolishness, soon regained 
her natural good humor, and, like the rest. 


A BAD SATURDAY, 


83 


became absorbed in discussing what was to bo 
done. 

Verena was for letting matters take their 
course. Kate proposed a compromise by sug- 
gesting that they should take old Jake (a small, 
thin, wiry, grizzled, good-natured colored man, 
who for years had served as driver, errand- 
goer, factotum and under-gardener) into their 
confidence, vow, or, if necessary, bribe him to 
secrecy, and dispatch him as soon as possible 
to the school-house with orders to dismantle the 
figure, and restore everything to its proper 
plhce. Agnes objected; first, because, having 
done the mischief themselves, they were bound 
to undo it; secondly, because young ladies had 
no business either to bribe or to persuade 
servants to do such errands; finally, Jake was 
slow of comprehension, and would only be likely 
to make matters worse. This last argument 
seemed to have more weight than the purely 
moral ones, and, after a prolonged discussion, 
resumed after supper, the following foolish, 
hazardous, but, to the Thistles, exciting plan 
was finally adopted. 

Mrs. Hill and her pupils attended a large 
Episcopal church on the outskirts of the town, 
about a mile from the school. A big omnibus, 
driven by Jake, conveyed as many of the girls 
and teachers as it could hold, starting early 
and returning to fetch one or more loads, as 


84 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


required. On fine Sundays, however, Miss 
Clive usually headed a party of those who, like 
herself, preferred walking, often entrusting a 
detachment to the care of Miss Dorinda, 
Madame Verrier or of Miss Almira, who, 
although a Methodist, often went to the Epis- 
copal services, her own chapel being at a much 
greater distance. The road to church ran 
within half a mile of Martinis Hill, and the 
conspirators were to contrive to walk home 
either with poor Dorinda or with Madame Ver- 
rier (who was a stanch Protestant, and, though 
not especially devout, delighted in talking about 
her Huguenot ancestors), engage their guide in 
conversation, and suggest making a detour to 
view the landscape from the high-perched 
school-house. Agnes and, if necessary, Kate 
or Cornie, was to beguile the teacher’s atten- 
tion while the others, entering as before, should 
dismantle the unlucky schoolmarm and restore 
things to their places as fast as possible. 

It was not at all a Sunday sort of an expedi- 
tion, and Agnes, who had begun by thinking 
herself bound to compel the others to undo 
their evil deeds as far as might be, now felt very 
serious doubts as to the wisdom of her course, 
especially as the Thistles, making light of the 
risk and inconvenience, which she had hoped 
might sober them, seemed only to think of the 
fun. Brownie felt differently, but her heart 


A BAD SATURDAY. 


85 


was too full of grief at having brought her 
friends into this scrape for her to do anything 
but agree to what they wanted, and, as Cornie 
said, undertake the part of penitent for all four 
at once. And thus, faute de mieux, the plan 
was decided upon. 

‘‘But we can’t do it before afternoon!” 
exclaimed Kate. ‘ ‘ To-morrow is the Confirma- 
tion — don’t you remember how Dr. Grimshaw 
said he would omit the first lesson, and the 
Litany, and his sermon in order to leave plenty 
of time for the Bishop’s address, and the Con- 
firmation, and the Communion? I only wish 
he would omit his sermon every week! And, 
of course, Mrs. Hill and the General will sit 
downstairs, in a front pew, with our four can- 
didates” (“Four wise virgins, to counterbal- 
ance our naughty quartette,” Verena put in 
here, and Cornie laughed), “and Madame will 
escort the seniors, who stay for the sacrament, 
and we Thistles will be handed over to the 
Dragon for the walk home. We can’t propose 
going to Martin’s Hill so soon again; and it’s 
nothing short of a miracle that she didn’t sus- 
pect us yesterday, and search, and find us out.” 

Cornie and Verena sighed assent; and, after 
a fresh survey of the difficulty, all agreed that 
late in the long May afternoon would be the 
only time when they could put their scheme 
into execution. 


86 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


‘‘It’s a sad affair, girls!” said Agnes, as 
they adjourned. “I feel worse the more I 
dwell on it. Eemember, I don’t want to preach 
to yon” (“Don’t you, indeed?” thought 
Verena), “but this nonsense must be repaired 
somehow. You can’t let things alone, with the 
chance of being found out early next week; 
you must either confess to Mrs. Hill or try to 
undo your mischief at once. ’ ’ 

“Such a fuss!” Cornie began indignantly, 
when alone with Verena and Kate, Agnes 
having taken Brownie away with her. “One 
would fancy we had stolen something and had 
to take it back. I don’t care if those school- 
children are suspected, it couldn’t be proved, 
and wouldn’t be likely to hurt them much. 
Agnes thinks of those youngsters, and never 
of us. That is the way with your saints. I 
may be a dunce in some things, but I know well 
enough that they’re dreadfully tough sort of 
folks, who consider everybody before their own 
people. I’d rather have a less exalted person 
to deal with, who would be sensible, and com- 
fortable, instead of a high-flyer who wanted to 
sacrifice us to their lofty notions.” 

“VTiy don’t we rebel at once and tell Agnes 
that she may run over and settle things her- 
self?” cried Verena, with flashing eyes. “Oh, 
I don’t care; I’m ready for anything — but you 
are so meek, Kate, when once your dear Agnes 
gets hold of you ! ’ ’ 


A BAD SATURDAY. 


87 


Verena, pricked by conscience even while she 
spoke, felt a certain jealousy of Agnes’ influ- 
ence over Kate, aware that it aimed at with- 
drawing her from the Hungarian’s society, and 
forced to acknowledge to herself that Agnes 
strove up towards a higher standard of conduct 
than theirs — doubly eager, in consequence, to 
complain of Agnes’ weak point, her somewhat 
morbid scrupulosity, which, as in the present 
instance, led her to make mistakes with the best 
intentions. Cornie, as usual, took the most 
healthy and sensible view of any, declaring that, 
even allowing that they had greatly been to 
blame, the chances of any real trouble to the 
children at Martin’s Hill were far too slight 
for it to be worth while for the real offenders 
to rush headlong into a scrape on their account. 
A ‘^masterly inactivity” seemed to her the best 
course ; but, if Kate, talked over by Agnes, per- 
sisted in going on this expedition, why, she 
would stand by her and not back out. 

‘^Brownie is a simple little goosey, and 
Agnes, with her counsels of perfection, is a big 
intelligent goosey, and, between them, they will 
brings us into some fine adventure, you just 
see!” cried Verena fiercely. 

Never mind now!” cried Kate, in a quiver 
of excitement at the sound of a few bars of 
music from the parlor. ^^When they strike up 
that grand Eussian hymn, or ‘God Save the 


88 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

Queen/ it^s our signal to assemble on Saturday 
evenings for the tableaux, and we must hurry 
and get hold of Madame, or Julia & Co. will 
carry all before them and crowd us out. ’ ^ 

Eunning in from the garden, they found the 
long parlor filled with girls busily preparing 
for the tableaux, under the direction of 
Madame, who was turning over a many-colored 
heap of stage properties which had been 
brought down from the stock accumulating at 
Mount Cedar year by year. The culprits had 
enough to drive serious thoughts out of their 
heads in the exciting struggle to gain for them- 
selves and their friends a fair share of the 
amusements. Agnes, full of anxiety which dis- 
inclined her for gayety, found plenty to do in 
trying to restrain them, for their spirits, as 
soon as they were sure of having good places 
in the. tableaux, grew so unmanageable that 
they threatened to betray themselves by sug- 
gesting all sorts of absurd subjects, likely to 
arouse suspicion, such as ^‘The Burglarious 
Entry, which Kate offered to personate as a 
robber climbing in at a window, provoking 
intense mirth from Verena and Cornie, the 
latter proposing school subjects, but her jests 
were not sufficiently brilliant to attract atten- 
tion, and were supposed to refer entirely to 
Mrs. Hill ^s institute. 

. Verena ^s fancy ran wild on conspiracies, and 


A BAD SATURDAY. 


89 


she wished to drape a crowd of girls in 
waterproofs — as she said, to represent 
dominoes, with masks of white paper, whereat 
Kate and Cornie pealed with langhter — 
standing in a horror-stricken group round 
one lying stabbed upon the floor. High 
tragedy, however, did not seem to suit the gen- 
eral taste, which was what she and Kate con- 
sidered terribly commonplace, for the others 
persisted in choosing very stupid subjects, such 
as Hiring a Servant, Tea-Table Gossip,’^ 
and so forth, preferring the easy and grotesque 
to the tragic or melodramatic scenes, full of 
fair ladies, gypsies, ghosts, fairies and such 
like, which Kate and Verena loved. It was 
rather a misfortune that they had each been 
born with a tendency to dislike nearly every- 
thing pertaining to the beaten track in matters 
of taste, and of having small patience with 
many ordinary things acceptable to the other 
girls, while adoring many things quite out of 
their line; so that they naturally found occa- 
sional ridicule and a frequent lack of sympathy 
and companionship to he the result. 


CHAPTER VI. 


A BAD SUNDAY. 

M ISS CLIVE did not approve of crowding 
Bible lessons into the interval between 
breakfast and starting for church, so the 
garden next morning was filled with girls stroll- 
ing about in the fresh, light spring dresses only 
worn on Sundays, or occasions when their uni- 
form was laid aside. As Kate had said, there 
was to be a confirmation, and, although this 
time only four of Mrs. HilPs pupils were among 
the candidates, yet this served to create a small 
excitement. These four were members of 
Kate’s class, but by no means Thistles.” 
Quiet, studious, well-behaved girls of about six- 
teen, they mingled but little with their wilder 
companions, and, though utterly free from 
either lofty or solemn airs, were, like Agnes and 
certain others, nicknamed ‘‘saints” in conse- 
quence. 

Never happy unless she had a hand in every- 
thing, Miss Clive had bestowed upon these can- 
didates a great deal of special instruction, and, 
having kept them apart from the others in what 
Kate called a “retreat” during much of the 
90 


A BAD SUNDAY. 


9J 


preceding evening, she was now busily engaged 
in superintending their costume, arraying them 
in white gowns and sashes, tying their long 
hair with white ribbons, and sorely regretting 
that veils, in the English style, might not be 
worn. 

‘‘Why, Verena, you’re actually without either 
of your inseparables!” exclaimed Cornie. 
‘ ‘ What has happened 1 Are we found out ? ’ ’ 

“Not yet,” laughed Verena, “but I’m afraid 
Foxey might suspect something, and Kate has 
gone off in one of her odd fits, hanging round 
the dormitory, trying, I suppose, to catch a 
glimpse of those four, as if they were great 
heroines. I only hope she won’t give out and 
spoil our precious piece of work. Couldn’t we 
manage to start early and entice poor Dorinda 
up Martin’s Hill ‘to see the view?’ ” 

“No,” said Cornie, with decision, “not with 
all our commanders in the bustle they’re in 
this morning. I heard the General tell Jake 
to have the omnibus earlier than usual, and our 
class are to be the Dragon’s especial property. 
It’s a blessing that the General will sit down- 
stairs ! ’ ’ 

“Oh! Saint Agnes will keep an eye on us. 
I feel perfectly sure that while she sits there, 
looking so lovely, with her fresh complexion 
and rich auburn hair, and those deep, reddish- 
brown eyes — she’ll be wishing me back in Hun- 


92 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


gary even harder than I wish it myself. I know 
she makes me responsible for Kate being so 
unlike what she was in the time of that dear 
little girl, whose picture she wears in her locket, 
more than all you other Thistles, because Ihn 
one of the black-haired people, who are sup- 
posed to be naturally full of sin. Fanny 
declares that the Leslies, and Kate, and you, 
too, Cornie, belong to those blonde, light-haired 
persons who are presumed to be always sure 
to tell the truth. ’ ^ 

‘‘I remember,’^ laughed Cornie, ^‘she often 
says that deep brunettes, like herself, are con- 
sidered rather ‘ Frenchy, ’ and not to he trusted, 
because the good girls were apt to be made fair, 
and the naughty ones dark, in the old-fashioned 
moralizing books. 

Agnes, all through the service, was haunted 
by the prospect of their unlucky expedition and 
by a sense of deceit wholly new to her. Greatly 
doubting whether she had really done right 
in persuading the culprits to make amends in 
such left-handed fashion, she longed to induce 
them to tell Mrs. Hill, hut knew this to be 
impossible, and knew of no other way of making 
an impression upon Kate. She fell into a 
mournful reverie about Virginia and days gone 
by. It might have comforted her to know that 
Kate^s thoughts took the same direction, 
though she did not seem at all serious, but dis- 


A BAD SUNDAY. 


93 


played a restless eagerness to lean over the 
edge of the gallery, where she sat between 
Cornie and Verena, to watch every detail of 
the confirmation. Innate shyness and the fear 
of ridicule often led her to assume a careless 
or defiant bearing in order to conceal what 
passed within ; so that she had gained the char- 
acter of being far more reckless than she was 
at heart. Brownie’s sad, reproachful whisper 
as they went away, “Think of all those girls, 
and how different they are from us, ’’was but the 
echo of her own mood, and, though she did not 
guess it, of Verena ’s also; while the sight of 
the hushed half-empty church as she glanced 
hack into it kept haunting her with a longing 
sadness of which neither her teachers nor her 
sister Elisabeth would have deemed her capa- 
ble. And, as usual, afraid of being laughed 
at, she displayed great levity and was remark- 
ably wild all the way home, in company with 
the Hungarian, who, having never before seen 
an Episcopal confirmation, was naturally eager 
to enlighten her friends concerning the points 
of difference between this rite in America and 
the Lutheran confirmations she had witnessed 
in Europe. 

‘ ^ The Lutherans wear black confirmation 
dresses, do they?” exclaimed Cornie, in sur- 
prise, “and sometimes wreaths on their heads — 
oh, dear!” 


94 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


‘‘I don’t think young ladies wear wreaths^ 
but peasant girls sometimes do. And, in Hol- 
land, they all wear white veils over black 
gowns; but I think black has no business at a 
confirmation; they should wear white, like the 
Catholics. But the Lutheran confirmations are 
very impressive, except as regards the dress. 
Oh! it was far worse a century ago. I read 
how Baron de la Motte Fouque, who wrote 
^Undine’ and ‘Sintram,’ was confirmed in pri- 
vate, all by himself, in the parlor at home, with 
his relatives looking on and hearing him exam- 
ined in the catechism — just fancy how dreadful ! 
— and in French, too, because his family came 
from France — and I do think it is the last 
language for anything religious, don’t you? 
Oh! you may well go on, girls — I can tell you 
of a confirmation more terrible than that one. 
Madame Schopenliauer, the mother of the great 
pessimist, says, in her ‘Eecollections,’ that, 
when she was not quite fourteen, she had to go 
alone, one spring morning, to the house of some 
old clergyman, where she was met by the tutor 
— a theological student — who had prepared her, 
and, you know, the Lutheran preparation for 
confirmation means a great deal. Well ! it 
must have been more fearful than going to the 
dentist’s, for the poor child had to undergo her 
long examination and then to kneel down and 
be confirmed by the old pastor without a single 


A BAD SUNDAY. 


95 


soul to keep her company — and I know^ by the 
way you’re all groaning and wondering, that 
you think it was worse than Baron Fouque’s 
confirmation, with his family looking on. I 
j)ity royal personages for having to be con- 
firmed all alone; half the beauty of it, I think, 
is in having the young people side by side. In 
Europe we make a great deal out of it, but I 
think, judging by this morning, that you don’t 
make near enough.” 

‘ ^ No, indeed ! ’ ’ exclaimed Kate, deeply inter- 
ested by all this information. saw an 
Anglican confirmation when I stayed in 
Canada, with the Leslies — Agnes was confirmed 
then — and it was perfectly beautiful — all the 
girls in white, with veils, and I wish the custom 
would come in here by the time we are candi- 
dates — ^if we ever are !” 

So many laughing jests were showered upon 
Kate at the suggestion of herself or any of 
the Thistles becoming steady enough for con- 
firmation within a century, or thereabouts, that 
her mad spirits rose still higher. Miss Almira 
rebuked them for being so noisy upon a Sunday, 
and the whole set, when they reached Mount 
Cedar, rushed off together for the spare time 
before dinner in a mood of insubordination sure 
to have aroused the righteous anger of the 
‘‘General,” if the latter, when she returned, 
had not been too much occupied with the girls 


96 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


who had been confirmed and made their first 
communion, for her to notice the others. 

Agnes, unused to any sort of plotting, was 
sorely worried that afternoon lest they should 
be obliged to walk home with Miss Almira or 
Miss Clive; but Kate and Verena, unwilling to 
entrust this important manoeuvre to her un- 
skilled hands, bestirred themselves to secure 
Madame Verrier, Miss Dorinda, mildest and 
most easily managed of teachers, having 
remained with Mrs. Hill, who had had one of her 
bad nervous headaches, brought on by the long, 
crowded services of the morning. Secretly 
rejoicing, and making themselves as agreeable 
in French as possible, the party was just quit- 
ting the churchyard when Fanny Fox and 
Sophie Howard ran up and asked leave to join 
them. 

Kate, as Cornie said afterwards, turned 
green with dismay at these unwelcome addi- 
tions, greeted by unsuspecting Madame with a 
smiling face; and Verena began boldly 
declaring that they were going to walk some 
distance before going home; but Fanny and 
Sophie, who knew no fatigue, were not to be 
got rid of; and the conspirators, in a hurried 
council of war, settled that Agnes, as agreed, 
should occupy herself with Madame, Cornie and 
Brownie do their utmost to engage the atten- 
tion of their unwished-for companions, while 


A BAD SUNDAY. 


97 


the perilous errand to the school-house should 
be done by Verena and Kate. 

The latter contrived to set off Madame upon 
her favorite topic of the Huguenots, over 
which she waxed so eloquent and excited that 
she accepted the proposal to walk up Martin’s 
Hill without much heeding whither she was 
going. Agnes, more worried and anxious than 
ever, persuaded her to seat herself on the bench 
in the playground, with her hack to the school- 
house ; but to dispose of Fanny and Sophie was 
no such easy matter. 

First, they traversed every foot of the 
enclosure, passing close beside the fatal win- 
dow, to the unspeakable terror of the others, 
lest they should peep in and discern the school- 
marm in the dimly lighted room. Next they 
began to inflict some interminable story upon 
their wretched auditors, who only got rid of it 
by pleading fatigue and seating themselves 
near Madame, still absorbed in the woes of the 
Huguenots. The miserable conspirators, in 
utter despair, which produced a woefulness of 
countenance attributed by Madame to her thrill- 
ing description of a dragonnade, had just 
decided that their chance was lost, when Sophie 
Howard, famed for carelessness, contrived to 
tear a huge ^^barn door” in the front breadth 
of her Sunday frock. This naturally caused a 
sensation, purposely prolonged by Cornie and 


7 


98 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

Agnes, while Verena and Kate, after loudly 
expressing their sympathy, stole away from 
the group to the back of the building and, 
hardly breathing, raised the creaking sash and 
climbed inside. 

‘^At last!’’ groaned Kate, thought we’d 
never manage it ! Well, here’s our lovely work 
of art untouched. What a cruel shame to have 
to undo it!” 

^ Wes, but we’ve no time to lose, ’’said Verena, 
as they hastily took the figure to pieces, 
replaced the shoes, broom, cloak, etc., and, with 
unspeakable reluctance, effaced their cher- 
ished rhymes and drawings from the black- 
board. Laughing below their breath, but work- 
ing eagerly, they had almost finished when 
Verena ’s quick ears caught the sound of feet 
and voices, and, before they could escape, their 
only way of retreat was suddenly blocked up by 
the thrice-unwelcome vision of Sophie’s merry 
face. 

^W^ell, girls! What on earth are you doing 
inside?” was her sufficiently loud exclamation; 
while the others, in mortal terror, made a num- 
ber of frantic gestures imploring silence. 

Agnes still kept Madame occupied. Cornie, 
with much difficulty, retained Fanny beside 
her; but poor little self-reproachful Brownie, 
in her anxiety, had so terribly overacted 
the part assigned her of diverting Sophie’s 


A BAD SUNDAY. 


99 


attention that her snspicions were aronsed, 
and she hurried off to search for the 
missing couple. Once behind the school-house 
the open window met her gaze, and she had 
hardly uttered her expressions of surprise 
before Brownie, flushed and panting, stood by 
her side. 

^ ‘ There ’s ^ something up, ’ as we say, ^ * went on 
Sophie, glancing from one panic-stricken face 
to another. ^^Well, if you won’t answer. I’ll 
come and find out.” So, without awaiting a 
reply, she nimbly climbed within. 

^‘Oh, girls!” wailed poor Brownie as, for 
greater safety, she followed. 

Verena was about to take the bull by the 
horns by giving Sophie some partial explana- 
tion which might satisfy her and securing 
secrecy as to their entering the building, a fact 
she truly thought Sophie not likely to betray, 
seeing that she had done it herself. But fresh 
perils awaited the delinquents, whose feelings 
grew unutterable when, alas! Fanny’s keen 
dark eyes came peering into the room, while her 
clear voice began, ^^Well, Sabbath-breakers, 
breakers of the rules, breakers of your teacher’s 
hearts, is house-breaking your last accomplish- 
ment ? ’ ’ 

‘^Come in and join us,” said Verena boldly. 

‘‘Cornie!” cried Kate, as her friend’s tall 
figure appeared in the background, Madame 
Verrier coming next?” 


JOO THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

She’s safe enough on that bench, unless I 
choose to call her, which I don’t, if you’ll only 
tell me what this flurry means,” said Fanny, 
in her eagerness forgetting prudence and enter- 
ing by the window; while Cornie, unwilling to 
risk being caught alone outside, soon followed. 

‘ ‘ So this is your ‘ Burglarious Entry, ’ Kate, ’ ’ 
proceeded Fanny, scrutinizing the few remains 
of the schoolmarm not yet removed. There 
has been a fine piece of mischief played here, 
and I just mean to know what. ’ ’ 

‘‘Then you’ll just have to do without it, my 
dear,” answered Cornie, whose physical 
strength and beauty gave her an aplomb denied 
to Kate, who began solemnly, “Fanny, what- 
ever Sabbath-breaking, or anything else we may 
have done, just please remember that you your- 
self are in it, too.” 

“Hear the child! What does she meanf” 
said Fanny, seating herself in the chair vacated 
by the unlucky schoolmarm, which the four 
conspirators heartily wished were enthroned 
there yet, instead of the mocking form of their 
teasing companion. “In it, too — and pray, 
what 1 ’ ’ 

“Yes, indeed,” Kate went on. “Hush, 
Verena, let me say one thing first. Fanny, 
you’ve lost all right to blame us for climbing 
in here, because you have done it yourself ; and 
I think we four have a right to make you 
promise” 


A BAD SUNDAY. 


m 


‘^You four!’^ broke in Fanny, leaning back 
and shaking with laughter. ‘‘So Cornie was 
in it, too ! Oh, Kate ! I guessed as much, but 
I didn ’t think you would let it out so soon. And 
Brownie, poor child, what sort of horrible mis- 
chief have you been leading her into?” 

Brownie’s dark hazel eyes were* filled witli 
tears. 

“There’s no time to lose,” began Cornie, with 
energy. “Will you give us your word to keep 
quiet, Fanny and Sophie, or not?” 

Sophie, who had been scribbling on the black- 
board, seemed willing; but Fanny, as usual, 
began her rattling fire of nonsense in reply until 
Kate sighed, and even Cornie ’s placid temper 
became slightly ruffled. 

“They’re coming! I hear them! Oh, let us 
go!” was the piteous wail of poor Brownie, 
who had kept guard beside the window. 

“Mesdemoiselles, on etes-vous done?” cried 
Madame, from round the other side. The sud- 
den disappearance of four of her remaining 
audience and the half-stifled peals of laughter 
from within the building, had caused her to 
break off in the midst of a most striking narra- 
tive about a persecuted ancestor of her own. 
and hasten towards the back of the school- 
house, followed by Agnes, whose anxiety nearly 
overpowered her. 

There, beside the memorable window, stood 


J02 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


Kate, Brownie and Sophie. Fanny and Verena 
had not yet emerged, but poor Cornie, whose 
large size rendered her passage through the 
narrow opening less easy than it was for her 
companions, was crouching pitiably, half in and 
half out, upon the sill, in a most uncomfortable 
attitude, tightly wedged beneath the edge of 
the lower sash, which, like those of many old- 
fashioned country houses, had no cords, but 
was kept in its place by a stick, after being 
pushed up. Kate and Verena, in their hurry, 
had neglected to put this stick securely into 
place, so that the pressure of Cornie ’s large 
form and rapid motions had speedily dislodged 
it. Blockading the way for Fanny and Verena, 
who, worried, but convulsed with laughter, tried 
to lift the sash from within, and tilling with 
untold dismay the other three, who were vainly 
struggling to raise it from without, Cornie, a 
heroine far from enjoying her prominence, sat 
unable to move backward or forward, so that 
the impression made by the entire group upon 
a ceremonious, dignified Frenchwoman, teacher 
of dancing and deportment, can hardly be put 
into words. 

“I can't get out," quoth Cornie, like the 
famous starling, her handsome face crimson 
with fright and exertion. ^‘0-h-h-h-h! Girls, 
the sash is jammed, I tell you, and it won't 
budge for any of you. It's tight; and it will 
take a man's strength to make it stir." 


A BAD SUNDAY. 


J03 


man!^^ gasped the horror-stricken 
Frenchwoman, in her native tongue. ‘^Do you 
think, Mademoiselle Cornelie, that I am without 
shame, that I should permit one of your coun- 
trymen to behold you as you are now ? And on 
Sunday, too, and on the way back from 
church ! ’ ^ sighed the doubly scandalized Protes- 
tant, as the combined horrors of the situation 
flashed upon her mind. 

can’t help it,” was Cornie’s sulky reply, 
in English; ‘4t’s worse for me than for any- 
one else. Give a good hard push, girls, all 
together; not such wretched little jerks, one 
by one. 0-h-h-h, don’t squeeze me so!” 

Agnes, Madame and the rest united their 
efforts to push up the miserable sash which, as 
Cornie said, was ‘^jammed,” and only yielded 
after a vigorous and combined struggle. Pant- 
ing, hot and tumbled, the unlucky captive was 
at length released, Fanny and Verena climbing 
out after her. 

‘‘And now, Mesdemoiselles !” Madame began 
her oration to the abashed group, while Cornie 
combed back her tangled locks and tried to 
restore shape to the crushed, battered straw 
hat which had fallen from her head in the tur- 
moil and been trodden by Sophie under foot. 
What the justly irate teacher went on to say 
need not be particularized; but the culprits, 
though pretty well “taken down,” as they 


J04 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


would have expressed it, consoled themselves 
by ^reflecting that, after all, Madame only 
thought their escapade a silly freak of the 
moment, and did not appear to suspect any- 
thing behind. Agnes and Brownie stood silent 
and sorrowful; Cornie pouted and rearranged 
her dress ; Fanny, divining that she and Sophie 
were far less guilty than the rest, but willing 
to hold her tongue, bore the lecture with sang- 
froid, as usual. Kate was perhaps more 
unhappy than any, for Verena’s spirits, though 
outwardly repressed, actually rose to a pitch 
of morbid excitement at thus finding herself 
in a genuine ^ ‘ scrape ’ ’ among half a dozen girls, 
instead of being bitterly and unjustly reproved 
by old Mrs. Forbes (her half-brother’s mother- 
in-law, of the darkest Calvinistic tendencies) 
in helpless loneliness at home. 

All, of course, were ready to promise amend- 
ment; and the party finally set otf, Cornie 
bringing up the rear with Madame, who kept up 
a steady lecture upon her undignified, improper 
conduct. The others walked two by two, con- 
versation being forbidden for the nonce. Kate, 
at any other time, would have enjoyed this walk 
in the golden light of the May evening, but her 
heart was sad, and a discovery she made as 
they entered the grounds of Mount Cedar com- 
pleted her wretchedness. 

Her locket was gone. She distinctly remem- 


A BAD SUNDAY. 


JOS 


bered feeling it upon her neck in the school- 
house; it must, therefore, have dropped olf 
there, or on the way home. If found in the 
school-house, and traced to Mount Cedar, Miss 
Clive would be sure to investigate the whole 
affair until she knew the truth, which Madame 
would be sure to tell at once. If not found, 
then she had lost her most precious ornament, 
which could never be replaced, and that, to her 
excited fancy, seemed to have been taken from 
her as a punishment. She feared to tell Agnes, 
and shrank even from mentioning it to Verena, 
who, when supper was over, again joined Fanny 
Fox. 

Kate was not exactly jealous; she knew that 
her imaginative Magyar friend at heart liked 
her better than anyone ; but to-night it deepened 
her melancholy feeling of being solitary amid 
the crowd of girls who were talking and 
laughing together. She stole out into the gar- 
den, away from the ceaseless noise. In the 
soft, dim twilight she caught a glimpse of the 
white dresses of the four girls who had been 
confirmed, walking in couples a little way off. 
No wonder that they wished to be alone- 
together, out of doors — but she could not bear 
to intrude upon them ; she hurried away, 
revolving plan after plan for regaining her 
locket without raising inquiry or suspicion— 
and the sole assistant whom she could think of 
to help her in this emergency was — Old J ake. 


m 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


If Jake could be persuaded to go privately 
and search the school-house, Kate thought there 
might be a chance of finding it. Jake, though 
slow-brained, was a staid, honest, civil, good- 
hearted old fellow, whom she knew she might 
trust. The bare idea of telling Madame and 
asking permission to go there herself never 
crossed Kate’s mind. 

Jake, his Sunday toils as coachman ended, 
was sitting on a bench beside the paling of the 
kitchen garden, duly provided with temporal 
and spiritual refreshment in the shape of a 
paper of hard gingerbread, a well-filled pipe 
and a Methodist hymn book. The terror of his 
harmless life was Sandy, the gardener, a 
shrewd, capable, sanctimonious Scotch Pres- 
byterian, who surveyed poor Jake’s ignorance 
and slow-wittedness from the heights of his own 
superiority. This ^‘puir, feckless auld bodie,” 
as Sandy called him, looked up with pleasure as 
Kate drew near. She liked poor Jake, and, 
encouraged by Mrs. Hill, had sometimes read 
to him on Sundays from the Bible and hymn 
book, at which he spelled so painfully by him- 
self. 

The pipe was quickly laid aside, and the gin- 
gerbread (of the old-fashioned ^ Tiorsey-cake ” 
description) respectfully offered to his young 
visitor, who gratified him by breaking off a 
small piece ere she began a concise statement 


A BAD SUNDAY. 


m 


of her troubles in language sufficiently plain 
and simple to be soon understood by her sym- 
pathizing listener, who, having once fairly 
taken the idea, promised her his utmost help 
and secrecy. She did not, of course, mention 
the first visit to Martin’s Hill, and had much 
ado to restrain her laughter at his ludicrous 
face and exclamations when she described 
Cornie’s perplexity and Madame ’s wrath. He 
professed himself shocked at such tricks upon 
a Sunday, and stoutly declined any reward for 
his trouble, declaring that little Miss Katie had 
always been so kind to him that it was a pleas- 
ure to serve her. Kate, low-spirited as she 
was, felt grateful even for his childlike sjmi- 
pathy, and offered to read to him if he would go 
indoors; but Jake, before whose mental vision 
hovered the grim, lantern- jawed face of Sandy, 
pervading the kitchen regions with his most 
rigid Sabbath-evening expression, declared 
humbly, but firmly, that he would much rather 
stay in the garden, adding meekly that he would 
be very thankful to Miss Katie if she would be 
so good as to repeat to him some of the hymns 
in his book, which she had read to him so often, 
and knew by heart. He knew them himself 
after a fashion, only he always did get so 
puzzled by the long words. 

Kate, whose memory for rhyme was the won- 
der of her teachers — co-existing, as it did, with 


108 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


a very uncertain memory for dry studies, sci- 
ence and the most important events in history — 
felt glad to oblige the old fellow. So, seated 
upon the other end of the bench, among the 
feathery asparagus bushes that softly rustled 
round her in the twilight, watching the stars 
come out, she recited a number of hymns, and 
was rewarded by hearing his gasping sighs of 
enjoyment, especially when she repeated 
Charles Wesley ^s ‘‘Wrestling Jacob, which, 
though he did not half understand it, was his 
favorite, from its melodious rhythm, and 
because his own name figured in the title. Kate 
felt that she now acquitted herself far better 
than if she had been standing up before the 
school with Miss Clive ready to criticize every 
word. Her voice, at first restrained, rose by 
degrees with her own gathering excitement. 
She ceased to think whether anyone might over- 
hear her, absorbed in the strange delight of 
declaiming a kind of poetry that it would have 
overpowered her with confusion to have to 
recite before an audience. Finally, having 
raised the simple-hearted old man to the 
seventh heaven of innocent rapture by this, the 
one virtuous action of her extraordinary Sun- 
day, Kate left him, receiving his reiterated 
promise to go and search for her locket as soon 
and as secretly as possible. 

Quietly she stole back to the house, passing, 


A BAD SUNDAY. 


J09 


in the darkness, some half-seen figures, which 
she took for the girls who had been confirmed, 
at a little distance. The Sunday-evening music 
had not begun, and the noisy chatter of the 
parlor and the porch jarred yet more unpleas- 
antly upon her by contrast with the fresh night 
wind and calm, deep, starlit sky. Her heart felt 
less heavy, and, obeying a sudden impulse, she 
ran upstairs towards Agnes Leslie’s room, 
which was one of a row of tiny chambers high 
up in the wings, allotted to elder scholars. 
Breathless, and slightly wondering why she had 
come, she tapped at the door. 

‘‘Come in,” said Agnes, in her soft English 
voice ; and Kate entering, perceived her friend’s 
figure seated at the window in dusky relief 
against the starry sky, while she again began 
to call herself a goose for having come, especi- 
ally when Agnes, otfering her a chair, professed 
gladness at seeing her arrive of her own accord, 
as she had wanted to see her and had thought of 
sending Brownie to look for her. 

“Agnes!” began Kate, with desperate bold- 
ness, “hasn’t this first Sunday in May been a 
most remarkable jumble, even for our school?” 

“Not a very ‘white stone day’ for some of 
us, at least,” Agnes answered more cheerfully 
than Kate had expected. “You must know, 
Kate, that though I blame you all — and your- 
self in particular — yet I blame my own self even 


no THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

more for sitting carelessly on that bench talk- 
ing, instead of looking after yon. I might have 
known — — 

^^That we weren’t to be trusted!” broke in 
Kate. ‘‘Well! — Oh, Agnes, it may be easy for 
you to be good, you never wanted to do any- 
thing wrong; you never were a Thistle, even 
when you first came here, when you were thir- 
teen. And Elisabeth, too, she has no tempta- 
tions, because she doesn’t want to do anything 
hut just sit at a desk, with a big pile of books, 
and such an expression of superiority, and 
everyone praises her for being so good. She 
can’t possibly understand how I love to get into 
a gale of high spirits, because I have an inner 
life, and — oh, I know she’s desperately studi- 
ous, but even Miss Clive says that she has no 
originality, she can’t do anything except just 
take in — and she knows that I, her naughty 
sister, do possess some originality; so she’s 
secretly jealous and snubs me.” 

This plain statement contained much truth, 
to which Agnes hardly knew how to reply. She 
felt sorrowful ; she longed to find some way of 
impressing Kate’s feelings and moral sense 
without starting her off after any wild fancies, 
and casting more serious thoughts into the 
background, where, according to all appear- 
ances, they habitually dwelt in Kate. 

The latter, fortunately, gave her an open- 


A BAD SUNDAY. 


JU 

ing by adding, in a melancholy voice, as she 
sat with her head bowed upon the window sill, 
^ ‘ When Virginia was alive it was so different. 
How would it be, I wonder, if she were here 
now? Would I want to romp and carry on — 
and she not care for me?’’ 

think, Kate, that you would have devel- 
oped a love for what you call ‘carrying on,’ but 
that she might have helped to restrain you. 
And Verena Forster, I can see — everyone can 
see — only excites you the more.” 

Agnes spoke without jealousy; but poor Kate, 
eager to defend Verena, launched forth into a 
wild appeal on her behalf, dwelling, not with- 
out some eloquence, upon what she knew of her 
home trials, with their tendencies to make her 
fierce and headstrong; so that Agues, whose 
home memories were of the happiest, listened 
with unfeigned sympathy, which so softened 
Kate for the moment that her friend, again 
turning the conversation upon Virginia, con- 
trived to bestow some wholesome counsels 
which Kate, to do her justice, received with 
meekness and patience quite unusual. 

It might have been better if Agnes had 
stopped here, for, like all painfully scrupulous 
persons, she very soon had said too much. 
Aware that Kate regretted the nearness of her 
leaving school, and eager to make the most of 
what might prove to be their last private inter- 


n2 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

view, she proceeded to talk very seriously 
about the effect of Kate’s and Verena’s wild- 
ness upon Brownie and the younger girls. 

‘^Brownie is naturally a great deal more 
unselfish and conscientious than you are (Kate 
mentally agreed, though somewhat vexed by the 
plain statement), and not nearly so clever 
(Kate felt quite happy again). She seldom 
thinks about herself, as you and Verena are all 
the time doing. (Exactly; she hasn’t much of 
a self worth thinking about!) She gets into 
trouble through her amiability and love for 
pleasing others. (No wonder, for never think- 
ing of oneself, and rushing headlong into what 
other folks want you to do, is a short road into 
trouble at any time, as even I, with my wicked- 
ness, have experienced, thought Kate, glancing 
back over her five years at school.) I don’t 
want to talk about your position here, and all 
that — but I do wish you and your friends would 
have conscience enough not to lead others 
wrong. ’ ’ 

Kate, inwardly smitten, but still indignant, 
drew down the corners of her rather large but 
firm mouth with a mock-heroic air of distress. 

‘‘I wish I were one of the Saints !” she began 
dolefully. wish I were dull, and meek, and 
quiet, and hated romping, and hadn’t any tastes 
in particular, and no imagination, and no love 
for anything besides study, and obeying people 


A BAD SUNDAY. 


m 

— like the girls who were confirmed to-day — 
for then I could be good, too.’^ 

You don’t wish it at all,” said Agnes boldly. 
‘‘You are conscious at this very moment, and 
rejoicing in the consciousness, of having far 
more brains than any of those girls, and feeling, 
in a wrong-headed sort of way, as if that fact 
somehow made up for your not being half so 
good.” 

Agnes, though not far wrong, had overshot 
the mark. The dramatic Kate, unduly excited, 
needed only this thrust to start her off into a 
tirade of mock-heroic misery for her own short- 
comings, using very careless language, laugh- 
ing at much that she really respected, abusing 
unmercifully what she called the heavy dull- 
ness and want of intellectuality of some of the 
“saints,” and taking so much pains to seem 
far worse than she really was that Agnes 
regretted having spoken. She could not guess 
how Kate’s inner life, at this period, was, as 
she expressed it long afterwards, in a state of 
siege and starvation, as she went on : 

“I know you’ve been trying to convert me 
for ever so long; but it’s no use. Give me a 
slow, quiet, easy-going brain, without the 
shadow of a fancy in it, and I’ll soon be a model. 
But, with the one I have — never mind!” 

Agnes saw that she was doing no good, and 
judged it best to cut the unsuccessful parley 


m THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

short. Eising and turning on the light, she 
took a small book from her shelf, marked one 
or two places in pencil, and handed it to Kate, 
with a request that she would not open it until 
she should give her leave, perhaps long after 
they had each left school. 

^The Temple,’ by George Herbert,” cried 
Kate, in astonishment. ^^Oh! Pious poetry! 
Agnes, you were intended to be a clergy- 
woman, I’m sure.” 

‘‘Nonsense; be quiet one moment! I don’t 
want you to read any of it now. There is one 
poem, ‘The Elixir,’ which I have marked as a 
good lesson for you — some day — when you are 
wiser. Promise me that you will not open it 
until I let you. I know you love mystery, 
though you don’t love obedience. Promise 
me !” 

“Well, I suppose I must!” growled Kate, 
with assumed sulkiness. 

Agnes took up a pen and wrote some words 
on the fly-leaf, proceeding next to secure safety 
by carefully wrapping and sealing np the vol- 
ume ere she delivered it to Kate, who received 
it with serio-comic thanks, cut short by Grace 
Howard’s knock at the door to summon Agnes 
to the Sunday music. Kate rushed away and 
hid the book in her alcove, then hastened to 
ilie parlor, where Cornie instantly darted at 
her to pour forth plaints because of the extra 


A BAD SUNDAY. 


ns 

French lessons imposed upon them by Madame 
as a punishment for their conduct that after- 
noon, which, for Cornie, were indeed no joke. 
Verena had taken her place among the chief 
singers, and slyly nodded over to Kate, who 
hardly saw her, absorbed in watching the girls 
who had been confirmed as they came in, 
looking, with their pure white dresses and calm, 
sweet faces, like young angels to her own 
excited fancy, feeling, as she did, how much 
happier they must be than she herself just now. 
They might be far less clever, unable to appre- 
ciate many things that Kate loved; yet they 
seemed so happy — why must there be such a 
gulf between herself and those gentle maidens 
at her side? Her mind was in a whirl which 
the solemn music of the organ and the clear 
sound of all those young voices increased until 
she could hardly keep from sobbing. What was 
her dismay when Fanny suddenly gave her a 
half-perceptible nudge and whispered: 

^^Well, little Eva, how you did charm old 
Uncle Tom to-night!’’ 

Kate flushed scarlet with confusion as it 
flashed upon her that the tormenting ‘^Foxey” 
must have been out in the garden and over- 
heard her reciting hymns to poor Jake. One 
of those dim forms she had seen when returning 
to the house must have been that of her per- 
secuting companion, who went on slyly banter- 
ing until Kate felt nearly frantic. 


116 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


She contrived to slip away from Fanny’s 
neighborhood, and crouched down half-hidden 
behind the group round the organ, closing her 
eyes and weeping silently. Whether her com- 
rades in mischief were at all repentant she 
could not tell, no one, except little Brownie, 
seeming in the least dejected, save at the pros- 
pect of punishment; but Kate, capable at least 
of more seriousness, exhausted by anxiety and 
saddened by the loss of Virginia’s locket, 
avoided her lively fellow-Thistles when prayers 
were over, and, creeping quietly upstairs to 
her refuge in the dormitory, soon cried herself 
to sleep. 


CHAPTER VII. 


CONSEQUENCES. 

M onday dawned with a chilly rain, so 
that Jake, who dreaded what he called 
‘‘the rheumatics,’^ was unable to carry 
out his project of going to Martin’s Hill before 
breakfast, with which he had raised Kate’s 
spirits on Sunday evening. Her new day began 
inauspiciously, like the preceding one. Dis- 
tress about her locket and a haunting sense that 
the trouble from that unlucky freak was not 
yet over, united to render her by turns 
melancholy and wilder than usual. Outward 
influences of earth and sky always powerfully 
affected her sensitive nature, and, like Verena 
during the gathering storm, she longed to be 
alone, to dream, to watch the dim, rainy land- 
scape and escape from the noisy bustle of the 
school. Even the continued high spirits of the 
Hungarian, who seemed to have formed quite 
an alliance with Fanny Fox, helped to depress 
Kate, though she struggled hard to hide her 
sadness, aware that any sign thereof would 
bring “Foxey” down upon her with the charge 
of “having a good fit,” and a string of mock- 
117 


m 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


ing allusions to her reciting hymns to poor 
Jake, varied by copious references to the scrape 
at Martinis Hill by way of contrast. 

Things improved in the afternoon ; the 
weather cleared, and Jake, who had to go on an 
errand, contrived to fulfill his promise to Kate, 
whose heart, however, sank still lower when the 
old man, with genuine distress, owned that his 
careful search along the road and in the school- 
house had been in vain. Tuesday morning found 
her vainly trying to nerve herself to tell 
Madame and secure her assistance ; but this, for 
a girl like Kate, was far easier said than done. 

School did not proceed at all smoothly on this 
warm, bright Tuesday morning. Perhaps the 
languid spring weather may have aggravated 
the general restlessness, for the rows of desks 
occupied by the Thistles, as well as those 
belonging to the juniors, soon became the scene 
of a variety of absurd pranks affording huge 
delight to their silly perpetrators and vexation 
to Miss Clive, whose fiery temper was most 
sorely tried. Verena, unable to be quiet, incited 
her friends to a combined raid upon the contents 
of Cornie’s pocket, when the latter, somewhat 
rashly, ventured to turn them out under cover 
of her desk-lid, and soon wrote a descriptive cat- 
alogue thereof, which, brushed aside by Fanny’s 
sweeping locks as she stooped to gather up 
some spilt mint-drops, fluttered down at 


CONSEQUENCES, 


n9 

the very feet of the General’’ as she returned 
from hearing a class in another room. Lifting 
the paper, headed ^‘Contents of a Young Lady’s 
Pocket,” she solemnly mounted the platform, 
where, unwilling to forego producing a sensa- 
tion, she read out the absurd list in a cruelly 
clear, piercing voice, summoning ‘‘Cornelia 
Mary Freeman” to receive a rebuke for bring- 
ing such articles as candies, peanuts, jack- 
stones, gingerbread, loose beads, ends of rib- 
bon, photographs, a jews ’-harp, etc., into 
school, while the scholars now present (unluck- 
ily including “Maxwell, Morgan & Co.”) lis- 
tened with very unconcealed delight. 

“It might have been worse,” said Cornio 
philosophically, when they were in the garden. 
“I once got caught with a note to Kate iii' 
of strictures on the General, and had barely 
time to tear it up before she summoned me ; and 
to-day even the Saints seem to get into trouble, 
for Agnes got rebuked for inattention and 
Queen Bess broke down in geometry.” 

Agnes’ inattention, in truth, was caused by 
her anxiety about Kate, who since Sunday even- 
ing had quietly avoided her. The girls had 
reassembled awaiting various teachers who 
delayed their coming, causing many wild con- 
jectures and low comments suddenly silenced 
by the entrance of Mrs. Hill, looking more than 
usually careworn. Miss Clive with heightened 


m 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


color, Miss Almira seeming very sad, and Miss 
Dorinda with an air of wonder. Madame Mer- 
rier followed, and, bringing up the rear, with 
nervous glance and an uncertain tread, came a 
young woman named Bessie Johnson, a dress- 
maker, who often worked for the girls, and who, 
as Kate remembered with sickening terror, was 
a younger sister of the schoolmistress at 
Martin’s Hill. Could they have been found 
out? She grew positively faint with apprehen- 
sion, which was not lessened when, Mrs. Hill 
having taken her seat. Miss Clive ranged the 
other teachers on one of the long benches at 
the side of the platform, and made the young 
woman sit facing them opposite. Evidently 
something was about to happen, and the whole 
school looked up in silent wonder while Miss 
Clive, erect and awful in her stateliness, arose 
and held up to their astonished gaze — Kate’s 
locket. 

^ ‘ This locket, ’ ’ she began, in measured tones, 
‘^was this morning discovered lying — it might 
have been purposely concealed — beneath a pile 
of loose papers and rubbish in the chimney- 
place of the school-house at Martin’s Hill. 
Miss Johnson, the mistress, had it brought to 
her by some of her pupils. Opening it, and 
seeing the inscription of ‘Virginia Elisabeth 
Leslie’ inside, and knowing that her sister here 
worked for a Miss Leslie at this house, she sent 
it here by her in order to find its owner. ’ ’ 


CONSEQUENCES. 


I2J 

Eager silence ; but Agnes ’ face of pained sur- 
prise and Kate’s look of mingled joy and over- 
powering anxiety were a study. 

Sarah Johnson,” pursued Miss Clive 
loftily, ‘‘suggested that it might have been 
stolen and secreted where it was found. Her 
scholars denied all knowledge of it. But one 
of her boys said that last evening as he passed 
the school, about sunset, he met our own 
servant, Jacob Handy, stealing round a corner 
of the building as though he wished to escape 
notice. I desire to make no specific charges, 
nor to hazard a conjecture as to by what extra- 
ordinary circumstances this locket, belonging, 
as I know, to Katharine Armstrong, could have 
been hidden in the place where it was found. 
The facts, however, are most singular and sus- 
picious, and it is my intention at once to have 
them sifted to the bottom. ’ ’ 

At the mention of Kate’s name the whole 
assemblage of teachers and scholars turned 
their wondering eyes towards the spot where 
she sat with uplifted head and burning cheeks. 
Verena and the other Sunday culprits of course 
guessed at once how matters stood. The rest 
were divided between strong suspicions of some 
trick on Kate’s part and a reluctant doubt as 
to the honesty of poor old Jake. 

‘ ‘ Katharine Gordon Armstrong ! ’ ’ Miss Clive 
rolled forth with awful distinctness and 


J22 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


solemnity, ‘4eave your seat and come for- 
ward. ^ ’ 

Kate^s face grew sickly white as, returning 
Verena’s sympathizing hand pressure with a 
convulsive squeeze, she arose and slowly 
ascended the platform with unsteady steps. 
The glimpse of bright blue sky, seen through 
the large open windows behind Mrs. HilPs 
chair, seemed like the final farewell of earth 
taken by a prisoner on his way to execution; 
and she wildly envied the happy little birds who 
were hopping and twittering among those 
green, waving tree-tops yonder. 

‘‘This is yours?’ ^ said Miss Clive sharply, 
indicating the locket. 

Kate could only answer by hastily bowing 
her head. 

“Yours. Then speak out. Sent to you by 
Virginia Leslie’s mother soon after the death 
of the little companion whose influence kept you 
a far better child than you have ever been 
since, and infinitely better than the friends 
(Miss Clive purposely assumed a sarcastic tone 
which made Verena’s blood boil, and she 
clenched and shook her little fists beneath her 
desk) whose company you affect would seem to 
make you now. (Kate looked and felt ready 
to annihilate her teacher, while even placid 
Cornie murmured something angry to Fanny, 
who was too wise to hazard a reply.) Now you 


CONSEQUENCES. 


J23 


have heard how and where it was found, and 
how circumstances appear to implicate Jacob 
Handy in a theft. If stolen from you, it was a 
clumsy theft. If you yourself lost it (Kate 
here gave a half -perceptible start and drew in 
her breath), you’’ — Miss Clive at this point 
of her oration was interrupted by Mrs. Hill, 
who called her to her side, and a whispered 
parley ensued between them for a few moments. 
Kate seized the opportunity to glide close to 
Madame, and murmur, in French, must tell 
them all, must I not, for poor old Jacob’s 
sake 1 ’ ’ 

Madame nodded, while Kate, sickening at the 
prospect of having to confess far more than 
that good lady had any idea of, felt scarcely 
relieved by her glance of evident approval. 

^ ‘ Kate will tell everything and get us all into 
an awful scrape,” muttered Cornie to Verena, 
whose dark gray eyes were flashing with excite- 
ment. ^^Oh, that tiresome locket! Kate’s 
sentiment about the thing always was a bore 
anyhow, but now — oh, dear, she’ll ruin us all 
with her candor, if Saint Agnes and Brownie 
don’t get ahead of her, which is worse !” 

Fanny and Sophie were philosophically 
resigned, the latter taking matters easily, as 
usual; while .the former, it must be owned, 
rather enjoyed the prospect of finding out what- 
ever tricks had, as she from the first suspected, 


t24 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


led Verena and Kate to climb into the sliut-up 
school-house. Poor Brownie, trembling, looked 
over to Agnes for sympathy, but found her 
entirely absorbed in watching Kate. 

Miss Dorinda was sent out of the room by Mrs. 
Hill, who, pitying Kate’s evident distress, said 
to her a few kind words about nobody sup- 
posing that she had done anything wrong,” 
which were like coals of fire on her guilty 
head. A solemn pause ensued, broken only by 
the whispers of the girls and the murmured con- 
versation of Miss Clive and her superior, until 
Kate, still standing on the platform, though, poor 
child, this time her prominence certainly gave 
her no pleasure, perceived Dorinda returning 
with the small, bent, wiry form of Jake at her 
heels, an air of intense dismay and wonder upon 
his black, simple, monkey-like old face. 

Poor Jake; he had been abruptly summoned 
from the cellar, where Sandy, as usual, while 
helping him to pile the coals, had likewise been 
metaphorically hauling him over the same. 
Marveling, in a vacant, helpless sort of way 
at the strangeness of being brought into the 
school-room, and vaguely anticipating some 
grievous charge from Miss Clive for he knew 
not what dire offence or negligence, he meekly 
trod behind Miss Dorinda, and paused 
tremblingly at the foot of the steps leading to 
the platform, as though hesitating to intrude 


CONSEQUENCES. J25 

himself among the high dignitaries seated 
thereon. 

^^What a new development,’^ whispered 
Fanny to Verena. thought we would be 
summoned next, instead of Jake.” 

Jake’s dull countenance brightened a little 
as, looking up, he caught sight of ‘^Miss Katie” 
on the platform. Miss Clive beckoned to him 
to come near, and, he having shyly and slowly 
plodded up the steps, she would probably have 
addressed him in language far too choice for 
his comprehension, had not Kate, daring from 
sheer desperation, darted forward, and, rushing 
past the astonished ‘^General,” seized Mrs. 
Hill’s thin, feverish hand, exclaiming wildly, 
^ ‘Let me tell you all about it, for Madame knows 
it is true.” 

‘‘You mean about your locket?” said Mrs. 
Hill kindly. ‘ ‘ Did you tell Madame that it was 
lost?” 

Poor Kate flushed a deeper crimson than 
ever, wishing now, too late, that she had had 
the courage to do so and secure an ally in 
Madame before this crisis. Unable to reply, 
she hung her head. 

“There is something exceedingly remarkable 
in your demeanor, Katharine Armstrong,” Miss 
Clive recommenced abruptly. “You behave 
far more like a culprit now than Jacob. Do 
you believe that he had had anything to do 


X26 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


with your losing your locket? Explain your- 
self at once.’’ 

Kate, who, with all her terror, felt rather 
piqued at being addressed in this stern, sharp, 
impatient tone when she had actually volun- 
teered to explain everything, asserted, some- 
what shortly, that she was certain he had had 
nothing whatever to do with hiding it. 

^ ^ Nothing to do with hiding it ? In what way, 
then, had he to do with it ? ” 

lost it,” answered Kate, in a low, distinct 
voice, twisting her hands in nervous agony, 
while Agnes, at her desk, drew a long breath of 
relief. She had feared lest Kate, hard pressed, 
might he tempted to equivocate, and was her- 
self determined to hasten to the rescue with a 
full confession if necessary, but wished first to 
let Kate ease her burdened conscience. 

‘‘You lost it?” Miss Clive repeated im- 
patiently. “How, then, could it have been 
found in the school-house on Martin’s Hill?” 

“I must have dropped it there,” Kate mur- 
mured half inaudihly, feeling her momentary 
courage fail now that a full disclosure seemed 
inevitable. 

“Ifais oui; Mademoiselle was up there, on 
that hill, on Sunday afternoon with me,” 
Madame began eagerly, feeling that it was time 
to speak and wishing to divert general attention 
from Kate. Other helpers were at hand, for 


CONSEQUENCES. 


J27 


Agnes quickly rose and approached the plat- 
form, with burning cheeks, and little Brownie, 
slipping out from among the desks, joined her, 
seized her arm, and mounted the steps. 

Kate knew that Agnes was prepared to tell 
everything, and a wild jumble of feelings 
prompted her to make a full confession, partly 
from a genuine sense of right and justice, partly 
from a pardonable desire to carry out her role 
of a willing penitent without having it assumed 
by Brownie or Agnes because she had not the 
courage to sustain it herself. And so she 
dashed madly into her subject, bidding a men- 
tal adieu to all present hopes of prizes or 
theatricals with a heartfelt pang. 

missed the locket when we came home 
from Martin’s Hill on Sunday afternoon. We 
had persuaded Madame to walk there. She sat 
with Agnes on a bench in the playground, and 
I — I — I” — Kate stammered, longing to find 
some way of confessing her own sins without 
implicating the others. 

^^Continuez, Mademoiselle,” began Madame 
encouragingly. 

^Wou carelessly lost this costly keepsake?” 
exclaimed Miss Clive, uplifting the shining 
chain and locket, at sight of which poor Jake, 
who had had a very vague, confused idea of 
what it was all about, raised his eyes and hands 
with a joyful, half-checked ejaculation of 


m 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


Glory, glory which drew forth a frown from 
Miss Clive and a titter from the girls. 

Silence, Jacob!’’ said Mrs. Hill, not un- 
kindly, for the old fellow’s childlike joy fully 
convinced her of his perfect innocence. ^^You 
shall tell us afterwards. Go on, Kate!” 

Kate, stung into transient boldness, was 
about to proceed when the general attention 
was suddenly diverted by Verena, who (unable, 
as she told Fanny, to see Kate victimized any 
longer), rising from her seat, with flushed 
cheeks and flashing eyes that made the girls 
wonder anew at her wild beauty, stepped 
quickly out into the middle of the room, and, 
quivering with excitement, mounted the steps. 

^‘What is this?” said Miss Clive sternly. 
^‘Wait till you are summoned.” 

have something to say,” replied the Hun- 
garian, quite undaunted and tingling with com- 
bative eagerness. ‘‘Mrs. Hill, I beg you, let 
me speak!” 

“You certainly shall, ’ ’ was the reply, in tones 
of unwonted energy. “Adelaide Clive, you 
have said enough. I wish to hear these chil- 
dren now.” 

“We went up the hill,” began Verena, who, 
finding herself “in for a scrape,” was resolved 
to hear herself bravely and win approbation, 
at least for her prowess. 

“Martin’s Hill?” broke in Miss Almira, sud- 


CONSEQUENCES. 


129 


denly mindful of the mysterious disappearance 
of four of her party during their excursion on 
Saturday morning. Girls, you went there 
with me, and ran off — all but Agnes — and said 
you had been looking about the school-house. 
Do you actually mean to say that you got 
inside ? ’ ’ 

‘‘We did on Sunday, and Madame knows, 
said Verena unflinchingly. 

Madame, dismayed by the faces of Mrs. Hill 
and Miss Clive, which, the former surprised 
and grieved, the latter shocked and indignant, 
looked at her for an explanation, began an eager 
half-French, half-English account of “Made- 
moiselle Cornelie’s’^ unladylike predicament, 
and so forth, to the intense amusement of her 
audience of innocent maidens, a troop of whom 
sorely grumbled at having to quit the school- 
room in the midst of this exciting narrative for 
the purpose of attending a class. 

“I wasn^t the first, pleaded Cornie, as she, 
in obedience to the awful summons, appeared 
before the seat of judgment, with Fanny and 
Sophie at her heels. “Kate and Verena got in 
first, before me.’’ 

The intense surprise, mingled with amuse- 
ment, upon Bessie Johnson’s fresh, rustic 
countenance, and old Jake’s expression of 
vague anxiety as they surveyed each other 
across the platform, helped to enhance the 


J30 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


extraordinary aspect of the motley group 
assembled there for what, as Fanny whispered 
to Verena, was the most solemn and severe 
court-martial ever held since she came to the 
school. Miss Almira, now thoroughly roused 
to suspect everything, was just beginning an 
exhortation to the offenders when Mrs. Hill 
stopped her to announce that all lessons, for 
Kate^s class and some others, would be sus- 
pended until the affair was cleared up. (‘‘We 
get off from the Dragon’s arithmetic, that’s 
some comfort!” whispered Cornie in Sophie’s 
ear.) Agnes drew nearer to Miss Clive, 
exclaiming, “I was to blame for not looking 
after them;” and Kate, seizing Verena ’s hand, 
cried, “No; she had nothing to do with it! It 
was all our own doing.” 

“We climbed in at the back window, and 
Kate must have dropped her locket in the 
schoolroom by the chimney place,” Verena 
added boldly. 

“In through the school-house window! And 
on Sunday afternoon! Pray, what excuse is 
there for such a "snilgar, unladylike piece of 
nonsense!” asked Miss Clive. “Let- me know 
what took you there.” 

Silence; but eager, imploring glances from 
Agnes to Kate. 

“We had to go there,” slowly repeated Kate, 
raising her eyes and looking Agnes full in the 


CONSEQUENCES. 


m 

face with a determined expression which her 
friend had seldom seen there before, and that 
implied a request for no further intervention, 
seeing that, if Kate must be forced into a full 
confession, she would do it boldly, and not give 
Agnes or others reason to reproach her with 
cowardice at the last. 

‘^Had to go there? Be more explicit. I do 
not understand. ’ ^ 

^A¥e had been there on Saturday,’’ went on 
Kate, miserable, yet amused by Jake’s puzzled 
face and Fanny’s quick glance of gratified curi- 
osity. ‘^We four, I mean — Cornie, and Verena 
— and I ’ ’ 

^‘And I!” faltered Brownie, choking with 
tears as she came forward and seized Mrs. 
Hill’s hand. ^^Oh! — it was I who proposed 
climbing in ! ” 

Yes ; but we would have done it all the same 
without you,” cried Kate, who, having once 
made the awful plunge, grew bold again with 
excitement. ^ ^ It was I who first climbed inside 
— and it was a very odd sort of place, with 
things lying about — and — we took an old water- 
proof cloak that was hanging there and put it 
over a broom propped in a chair to look like a 
figure of the schoolmistress, and” 

Bessie Johnson, whose sympathies seemed to 
be much more with the culprits than with her 
own sister, the schoolmistress, who was fond 


J32 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


of lecturing her about her gay costume on Sun- 
days, and otherwise unduly presuming upon her 
few years of seniority and the superiority of 
her position as a schoolmarm over that of a 
mere dressmaker, here burst out with an irre- 
pressible peal of laughter, which, though 
speedily choked by her sense of propriety, was 
really a great comfort and encouragement to 
Kate, almost ready to join in it as she watched 
the General’s’’ lowering brows. 

^‘Oh, laws, oh, massey. Miss Katie dear!” 
Jake kept groaning to himself, with sundry 
unintelligible ejaculations, as he slowly rocked 
to and fro. 

The universal thrill of curiosity, amusement 
and anxiety now pervading the audience, largely 
composed of girls whose teachers, instead of 
holding their usual classes, were engaged upon 
the platform, may be imagined. Mrs. Hill, 
roused into unwonted animation, and quite 
repressing Miss Clive, proceeded to question 
Kate, who was at first inclined to suppress 
unnecessary particulars, but, finding the case 
hopeless, launched boldly forth, assisted by the 
undaunted Verena, into a full account of the 
unlucky joke. 

^^You stuck a pipe into the paper mouth, did 
you?” gasped Miss Clive, in a tragic tone 
strangely at variance with the words, while 
Jake’s thick lips quivered with mirth and 


CONSEQUENCES. 


J33 


Bessie Johnson ^s face beamed anew as Kate 
added ‘^Yes; and Verena drew her such a 
delightful face’^ 

^^She brought it home on Sunday/’ put in 
Cornie, ‘ ‘ in her pocket. ’ ’ 

Verena, being desired to produce this especial 
corpus delicti, went calmly to her desk, rum- 
maged it and returned, saying with a coolness 
that positively sent a thrill through her com- 
panions in misfortune, ‘‘It isn’t there; it must 
be upstairs ; but I can soon get it for you. ’ ’ 

“And there were gum-shoes,” moaned poor 
Brownie, “great big ones — and a torn old arith- 
metic book that I put on the desk in front of 
her. ’ ’ 

“And a pair of frightful mittens, for hands 
that looked like paws; but I put them back,” 
went on Verena; and thus, one after another, 
the several culprits, including Agnes, who, full 
of self-reproach, explained to Mrs. Hill the part 
she had taken in trying to repair the mischief, 
had given a long, somewhat confused but, on 
the 'whole, correct description of the whole 
affair, interrupted by frequent and voluble 
French comments from Madame, now first 
enlightened as to the entire enormity, and sun- 
dry exclamations from Miss Almira and Miss 
Clive; while Jake, equally astonished, groaned 
in chorus. 

Fanny and Sophie, being innocent of the 


J34 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

original mischief, received a comparatively 
mild reproof ; but the united eloquence of Mrs. 
Hill and her subordinates was called into 
requisition for the four young outlaws who had 
caused such a disturbance. Mrs. Hill pleaded 
and appealed to their consciences. Miss Clive 
thundered an oration that gave free vent to her 
long-gathering wrath, including many a severe 
remark intended for Almira, whose lack of 
supervision had made the mischief easy. 
Madame lectured upon impropriety harder than 
even she had done on Sunday, and poor Miss 
Almira, unwilling to enter then and there into 
a contest with the ^‘General,” solaced herself 
by indulging in a harangue which would have 
suited a genuine class-meeting at her own 
chapel, every fresh sentence whereof, though 
failing to impress the Thistles save to make 
them want to smile, elicited a groan and an 
upward roll of the eyes from Jake. 

Brownie cried incessantly, clinging to Agnes, 
who perhaps sutfered more than the guilty ones, 
for Cornie never felt blame very deeply,' and 
Verena, since she had been thrown into the 
throbbing life of a great school, was so elated 
by the sense of companionship that it neutral- 
ized her fears after the first shock was over. 
Kate, haunted by the terror of being debarred 
from acting, but otherwise much amused by the 
sensation their recital had produced, bore her 


CONSEQUENCES. 


sas 

scoldings with apparent calmness, thankful 
when they were finally released with only the 
penalty of bad marks, several extra les- 
sons and a somewhat shorter noontide recess 
than the others for a certain period. After all, 
now that the fuss was over, she thought it was 
worth undergoing for the sake of regaining her 
beloved locket, which Mrs. Hill restored to her 
with many serious words. 

But, alas! — Jake, whose errand to Martinis 
Hill had long since been explained and himself 
mildly rebuked for undertaking to search in 
such a burglarious fashion, now, poor fellow, 
began to vent his innocent joy at seeing ‘‘Miss 
Katie ^s’’ locket regained after she had lost all 
hope of finding it, by abusing his own failing 
sight and awkwardness in not having looked 
more thoroughly in every corner of the school- 
house, winding up with an incoherent apos- 
trophe of respectful devotion to Kate, alluding 
to the kindness she had always shown him, and 
dilating, to her intense confusion, on the numer- 
ous hymns she had so beautifully recited to him 
on Sunday evening in the garden. 

In vain she tried to make him stop by frowm 
ing and slightly shaking her head — the simple 
old soul did not understand, but went on, 
utterly unconscious of the acute mortification 
he was causing her, until Miss Clive broke in 
rudely with, “So this was part of your per- 


J36 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

formance, Katharine Armstrong, playing mis- 
erable, childish tricks, which you needs must 
break Sunday to undo, and then trying to 
involve Jacob in your wretched nonsense, while 
you pretended to be so good and religious, say- 
ing hymns by the dozen, when you had been play- 
ing such a disgraceful game on your way back 
from church that very afternoon. How I 
despise such hypocrisy!’’ 

didn’t mean to pretend to be religious — 
I only wanted to please Jake,” stammered 
Kate, with burning cheeks. 

“To please Jacob? And what, pray, would 
you call your conduct, you who are growing old 
enough to be confirmed, like some of your class- 
mates, whose example you would do well to imi- 
tate in all things,” cried Miss Clive, with a 
sweeping gesture, as she rose and stood erect 
in her favorite magisterial attitude. “What 
can you call such conduct hut hypocrisy?” 

Oh, Miss Clive, Miss Clive — if you only knew 
the harm you are doing now ! Kate has faults 
in plenty, but hypocrisy, as you well know in 
cooler moments, is not among them, and the 
biting, cruel, sarcastic speech you are now con- 
tinuing in blind anger will sink into her soul 
and rankle there for years, rising up like a 
stumbling-block because your words seem, to bar 
the way to all future efforts by branding them 
with the name of deceit. You need not fancy 


CONSEQUENCES, 


137 


now that Kate will ever come to you 
for guidance, or let you catch one glimpse 
of her inner life. Small comfort is it to her 
that you soon include Verena and others in 
your condemnation — she hears only those bitter 
words aimed at herself. Mrs. Hill, utterly 
worn out, summons a class of elder girls and 
leaves the room. Elisabeth Armstrong walks 
away, looking back upon her sister with that 
same cold, haughty glance of scorn with which 
she has listened to the disclosures of this 
unlucky morning. Agnes reluctantly follows, 
to the silent despair of Brownie, who feels for- 
saken, too well aware that her impulsive con- 
fession of the first mischief to Agnes has indi- 
rectly caused this trouble, and feeling herself 
branded as a ‘‘tell-tale’^ henceforth. Madame 
Verrier and Miss Dorinda (who, it must be 
said, had felt much for the unhappy wrong- 
doers) soon depart. Bessie Johnson, full of 
unavailing sympathy for all whom she has unin- 
tentionally brought into trouble, is dismissed 
by Almira, who presently goes out in high 
dudgeon at some very pointed allusions from 
Miss Clive to what she considers the poor 
Dragon’s own share in the matter. Lastly, 
poor old Jake, muttering some incoherent 
apologies for the offence he still but dimly com- 
prehends, but for which Miss Clive shows no 
desire to spare him, follows in Almira’s wake, 
with bowed head and uncertain footsteps. 


J3S THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR* 

Miss Clive, wholly carried away by wrath, 
while fancying herself animated only by a wish 
to administer the purest justice, continues to 
harangue her four remaining victims, Fanny 
and Sophie having been released. Seated in 
mouselike stillness at their desks, they watch 
their miserable comrades standing in a forlorn 
row before the dreadful chair of authority^ their 
hearts, even the careless Cornie’s, and the 
defiant Hungarian’s, sinking more than ever, 
now that the long school-room is almost 
deserted, and no eager crowd of, for the most 
part, sympathizing spectators waits to learn 
their fate. 

When they were finally released, Kate rushed 
upstairs to her alcove and hid the locket out of 
sight. She could not bear to look at it, but flung 
herself on her bed and indulged in a wild fit 
of sobbing, which, whatever may be said as to 
its injurious effects on mind or body by those 
Edgeworthian moralists who demand of youth, 
‘‘What good will it do you to cry!” relieved 
and soothed her overwrought nerves as nothing 
else could have done. After all, there was com- 
fort in having nothing more to hide, and, though 
the ringleader, Kate’s punishment was not 
more severe than that of her companions, who 
cheered and consoled her when she reappeared 
below, where Verena was edifying a chosen band 
of Thistles by displaying the grewsome face 


CONSEQUENCES. 


J39 


she had drawn for the schoolmarm and relating 
very dramatic anecdotes of sundry scrapeo 
wherein she had taken active part at her sem- 
inaries abroad. 

Well — they had been punished, as Kate after- 
wards observed to Verena in private, not so 
much because they had really done the mis- 
chief, but because they had tried to undo it — • 
‘‘Thanks to Agnes and her morbid, ridiculous 
fussiness ! ^ ’ burst out the Hungarian, while her 
eyes flashed and her nervous little hands 
quivered in wild, graceful gestures. “Oh, yes. 
Kate; you neednT try to defend her! You 
know well enough that, as Cornie and I said at 
first, if we had only had the sense to let the whole 
thing alone no one would ever have known we 
made the schoolmarm, and we would have had 
no second going up there, and your locket 
wouldn’t have dropped off your neck as you 
reached up to rub out your rhymes on the black- 
board. I think that sacrificing other persons in 
order to satisfy one’s own precious conscience 
might be called a selfish, wicked way of being 
good — and that letting us alone would have 
been a virtuous way of being wicked — and the 
better way of the two I ’ ’ 

Kate groaned in sympathy, trying to soothe 
her friend; but the fiery Magyar refused to be 
pacified. Moreover, Kate’s own worst blow- 
ing-up, as we know, had arisen directly in con- 


J40 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


sequence of her one virtuous deed on that 
memorable Sunday in reciting hymns to old 
Jake. Wherefore, the conclusion soon arrived 
at by the precocious wits of these two Thistles 
was that, though not always sure to be pun- 
ished for being naughty, they were likely to be 
somehow punished, and severely, for any 
unusual efforts to be good. As Verena, abetted 
by ^^Foxey,’^ phrased it, one was always far 
safer, at school anyhow, for taking care not to 
be caught in committing any special acts of 
virtue worth being punished for. 

Miss Clivers injudicious fondness for doing 
everything in sight of the whole school had lent 
the whole affair a sort of dramatic interest very 
exciting to all the chief actors therein; and 
Kate, as her spirits rose, declared that this 
eventful day ought to be called the ^ ^ Day of the 
Platform,’^ just as the nuns of Port Eoyal 
spoke of a certain crisis in their convent history 
as the ‘‘Day of the Wicket Gate.’’ 

But nobody, except Verena, understood the 
allusion, and “Foxey” raised a laugh by sol- 
emnly suggesting that the nuns’ designation, 
if adapted to what the Thistles called the 
“Grand Court Martial,” merely required the 
alteration of two letters to transform it into 
the “Day of the Wicked Kate,” which would 
be most highly appropriate. 

Meanwhile they remained, as Verena said, 


CONSEQUENCES. 


HI 

under martial law,’’ frowned upon by the still 
implacable ‘^General,” and afraid of compro- 
mising themselves anew. Agnes Leslie and 
poor little Brownie they continued to avoid. 
Elisabeth Armstrong, with her usual want of 
tact, undertook to treat her Thistle of a sister 
to a severe private lecture, which was speedily 
cut short by the culprit suddenly darting out of 
the low open window of the class-Toom where 
it was administered during recess, and seeking 
a cat-like and inviolable sanctuary up among 
the topmost branches of a spreading pine. But 
the worst was over, and no threats issued of 
keeping them out of the theatricals, so that 
even Kate’s sadness did not last many days, 
except when she, of course, was caught and 
teased by Julia & Co., and when the memory 
of Miss Clive’s hard, cruel words returned to 
flood her heart with silent bitterness. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


UNCERTAINTY, 


RITHMETIC, as I always say, is just 



a branch of the Black Art; but it does 


^ ^ seem extra-diabolical on a heavenly 
May day like this!” growled Kate, as she and 
her fellow-culprits dolefully sat down at their 
desks, while the others were still enjoying 
recess out of doors. only want to dream, 
and waste my precious time, and scribble on 
my slate, instead of ‘Extracting the Square 
Root.’ What spirited figures you draw, 
Verena; how I envy you the gift. I think an 
artistic hobby has an advantage over a musical 
one, because you can practice it without dis- 
turbing anybody and proclaiming your blun- 
ders aloud” (“Ah!” interrupted Cornie, with 
an expressive sigh), “and I’m sure it must be 
a far less anxious, nervous sort of thing than 
writing, for then you feel as if you were giving 
up just so much of your own inner self ‘ for the 
daws to peck at.’ Here comes the Dragon — 
stop!” 

The Hungarian, unheeding, and inspired by 
sympathy, was covering her slate with an orig- 


142 


UNCERTAINTY. 


J43 


inal design representing Miss Clive, her high, 
handsome features and martial bearing much 
caricatured, enthroned in a lofty dentist’s chair, 
about to have a large molar removed by the 
gigantic forceps of a most grewsome prac- 
titioner, while a crowd of the wildest Thistles 
stood looking on, with huge scrolls, bearing 
sundry sarcastic observations on her woeful 
plight, issuing from their grinning mouths. 

Cornie’s spasmodic chuckle as she peeped 
over Verena’s shoulder aroused Miss Almira’s 
attention, and she gravely ordered Verena to 
come forward with her slate at once. 

^^Eub it out!” whispered Cornie; but the 
artist shook her head, and, marching up, pre- 
sented the corpus delicti with undaunted cool- 
ness. 

Poor Miss Almira, in the empty school- 
room, allowed herself to enjoy the foolish jest 
with, perhaps, a slight feeling of secret pleasure 
at thus seeing her tormentor absurdly turned 
into ridicule. She struggled hard to suppress 
a smile, and, after gazing long upon the sketch, 
headed in large letters Extraction .of the 
Square Boot,” quietly rubbed out the whole 
and handed the slate to its owner, with a faint 
rebuke for allowing her artistic talent to waste 
itself in such silly nonsense. 

^^More luck than management that you got 
oif so easily!” whispered Kate as her friend 


U4 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

came back. ^‘You had better mind what I tell 
you every day about keeping out of hot water, 
for Madame will soon be choosing the play, and 
I tremble lest we should be crowded out. ’ ’ 

Ah, Kate ! — well for you that you had not the 
second sight to discern a scene that was passing 
out in the garden just then! 

WHAT WAS HAPPENING IN THE GARDEN. 

‘‘Nonsense, girls! Wait till Julia comes. 
She dl tell us what to do. ’ ’ 

Cecilia Morgan had hardly uttered these 
words as she sat with her friends in the sum- 
mer house before Julia Maxwell’s tall, thin 
form and sharp, rather handsome face 
appeared, as she bounded into their midst, 
exclaiming, “I’ve found it out! I got hold of 
Madame, and coaxed it out of her. The rest 
won’t be told till to-morrow, so we have time. 
Look!” 

She flung a large volume on the table and 
opened it, while the girls crowded round to read 
the title of the play which had been chosen. 

“Plenty of good parts for us,” went on Julia, 
“and I got on the blind sid^ of Madame, and 
she’s ready to give us our choice. But about 
the children’s roles'. nly three — and, of 
course, she’ll be wantm^^ • drag that horrid lit- 
tle conceited yellow-wigged Armstrong in 
again.” 


UNCERTAINTY, 


145 

That’s just it!’’ Cecilia broke in eagerly. 
‘‘We were all saying we would move heaven, 
and earth, and Miss Clive in order to keep her 
out.” 

“Agreed!” nodded Julia. “That wild little 
Magyar looks as if she might act well; but she 
would be wanting to have Kate and Brownie, 
and we’re determined to get rid of the whole 
set. Girls, listen! If we are idiots enough to 
tell Madame that we don’t want those children, 
she will remonstrate and beg us to be obliging, 
and so forth. We must privately choose whom 
we like — Kose Gordon, and Christine Ellis, and 
Clara Barker — and get hold of them, and talk 
about it till they set their hearts on it ; and then 
poor, polite Madame won’t have the courage to 
refuse.” 

Cecilia threw back her head with an air of 
relief, while a smile of malicious glee over- 
spread her somewhat languid but pretty face. 

“Glorious! You’re a general! What did 
these girls propose just now but that we should 
get hold of Queen Bess and gently insinuate 
that her majesty should exert her influence to 
open Madame ’s eyes to the fact that Made- 
moiselle Kate had better be kept out of the 
distraction of theatricals and obliged to attend 
only to her studies. As if she would conde- 
scend to take a hint from any of us.” 

“As if you, or I, or anyone could make an 


10 


146 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

impression on an Armstrong,’’ broke in Julia, 
with derisive mirth. ‘‘The whole family need 
taking down! My father was at college with 
the father and uncle of these girls, and he often 
says that such a pair of utterly insufferable, 
conceited, stuck-up young prigs were never 
seen, and that their classmates turned ‘Arm- 
strong Arrogance’ into a proverb, because they 
were a couple of what Dickens calls ‘turn-up- 
nosed peacocks.’ I tell you, girls, it won’t do 
to have the younger generation crowing over 
us. Bess is going away next autumn — I wish 
it were summer! — so she can’t worry us long. 
But this detestable little mite of a Katharine, 
whom Madame thrusts into every play and 
Frau Schulze pets and praises, is growing more 
intolerable every day, and I just intend to put 
her down somehow ! ’ ’ 

A general laugh of approbation greeted this 
decision; and Julia, much elated, proceeded to 
detail her scheme, dwelling so forcibly on the 
necessity of using the younger children for this 
purpose that some of her accomplices, touched 
by a faint prick of conscience, interrupted her 
to insist that none of the little girls employed 
for the sake of keeping out Kate and others 
should be informed of this crooked diplomacy. 

“Oh, of course!” said Julia carelessly, “I 
know better than to harm their youthful minds, 
to say nothing of our own prospects, by telling 


UNCERTAINTY. 


H7 


them of our wire-pulling — ^but, Cissy, you know 
well enough that when I undertake a thing 
I put it through. Kerens the play — and the 
part of a high-born French lady that will just 
suit you. I mean to be the tragic, wicked 
female, and, in order to prepare for it, I shall 
set about securing those children by fascinating 
them with the idea of acting at once. ’ ’ 

^^It will be a pleasure to have that spirited 
little Rose Gordon, with her clear-cut features, 
and short, dark, curly hair, to dress up for a 
page instead of that horrid Kate, with her 
frizzly yellow pate, or the Hungarian, who looks 
as if she might stab you, or that tiresome 
Brownie, who seems taken out of a Sunday- 
school book, with no character of her own except 
to run and tell on other girls after she has 
helped them to do something atrocious,’’ re- 
marked Cecilia, while her friends assented in 
chorus as the meeting adjourned. 

DISAPPOINTMENT AND A DANCE. 

Julia, who had a great amount of energy, set 
about her work with such skill, vigor and 
promptitude that within twenty-four hours her 
point was gained. Madame Verrier, after 
giving out the name of the intended drama and 
arranging for a first rehearsal, summoned the 
thunderstricken Kate to a private interview, 
and, not without genuine regret, informed her 


H8 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

that several of the youngest girls had so set 
their hearts upon appearing that all juvenile 
roles would be filled, so that Kate and ‘‘Cette 
charmante petite Hongroise^^ must content 
themselves with standing in some of the 
tableaux vivants which would probably con- 
clude the performance. Kate, choking down 
her tears, hut heroically trying to fancy that 
she bewailed this exclusion for Verena’s sake, 
rather than her own, begged Madame to devise 
some trifling character for her friend, expati- 
ating upon Verena’s grace, beauty and evident 
dramatic power ; but Madame, after some hesi- 
tation, reluctantly declared that Mademoiselle 
Forster, though a fluent French scholar, had, 
strange to say, an accent, probably somewhat 
German, which was scarcely pure enough to 
display on the coming occasion. 

Against this sentence there was no appeal, 
and Kate, full of unspeakable disappointment, 
yet unable to feel slightly relieved at having 
Yerena for a companion in misfortune, mourn- 
fully slunk away ; while Madame, sympathizing, 
but glad to have the interview over, began to 
turn out her store of stage costumes from a 
large wardrobe, and the actresses-expectant 
came in, full of spirits. Kate could not bear to 
witness these preparations or to encounter 
Julia & Co., whom she shrewdly suspected of 
unfair conduct; and, ten minutes later, the 


UNCERTAINTY. 


J49 


afternoon sunshine was streaming upon two 
small, disconsolate maidens running at full 
speed towards their own private refuge among 
the tall asparagus bushes beside the fence of 
the vegetable garden, eager to indulge in the 
‘‘luxury of woe.’’ 

Verena, who had a strange fondness for going 
bareheaded, had flung her large hat over her 
left shoulder, where it hung like a shield, Kate 
thought, instinctively reminded of some Ger- 
man picture of a warrior maiden in a fairy tale 
by the graceful, exquisitely formed creature 
bounding at her side. Verena ’s countenance, 
vexed and disappointed though she was, seemed 
now more childlike and serene than when Kate 
had first met her; the heavy fringe of black hair 
formerly concealing her forehead had long 
since, at Miss Clive’s command, been turned 
smoothly back with a comb, while the rich mass 
still rippled far below her shoulders, and her 
face, relieved from the low-drooping shade, had 
lost much of the wild, anxious expression which 
had marked it while she lived unhappily in her 
brother’s house, and gained in beauty and intel- 
lectuality now that the fine, open brow was 
hidden no longer. 

Kate’s eyes seemed ready to overflow with 
tears as she flung herself down among the 
feathery bushes that likewise engulfed the 
prostrate form of her companion, crying, “I 


J50 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


feel just like boiling over ! Of course, we 
oughtn’t to care! Agnes would preach at us 
about it being our duty to be willing to give up 
to the little ones — but it doesn’t comfort us. 
It’s pure moonshine, like the everlasting talk 
about self-sacrifice making one so happy. We 
sacrificed ourselves and our judgment to Agnes ’ 
notions — and a fine mess we got into! I’m so 
glad Mrs. Hill blamed her well for making us 
undo our mischief in that sly, silly way — and 
Brownie is never seen by Julia & Co. without 
their yelling ‘Telltale!’ after her till she 
nearly cries. ’ ’ 

“Serves her right!” growled Verena, “and 
she is crowded out, too.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, but she doesn ’t mind it as we do ! She ’s 
never enthusiastic or excited; there’s no need 
of pitying her. But I do wish we could have 
a really good play to act, ’ ’ went on Kate, insen- 
sibly brightening over her favorite topic, 
‘ ‘ Something grand or beautiful, not just wishy- 
washy stuff written ^pour les jeunes demoi- 
selles/ but, you see, all the real dramas are full 
of men’s roles, and, though the General allows 
us small ones to dress as boys, or the seniors to 
act Grand Turks, in flowing robes, she would 
be horrified at the idea of the elder girls arrayed 
as ‘the opposite sex.’ ” 

“What a pity we can’t ask Frau Schulze to 
make the Professor send over a few well- 


UNCERTAINTY. 


J5I 


behaved pupils to act the male characters,’^ 
laughed Verena. ^^Only fancy the General’s 
countenance at the bare suggestion ! ’ ’ 

^^Yes; her face would be graver than it was 
one evening when I got some Thistles to steal 
out into the hall and try that extraordinary 
Greek dance that we have seen pictures of. 
You stand in a row, with your right hand on 
the shoulder of the one in front, and your left 
holding up your neighbor’s left foot, while your 
own is held by the person behind — and away 
you go, with a sort of hop, skip and jump. It 
wasn’t easy, and we laughed so that we nearly 
dropped. Suddenly the parlor door opened, 
and there stood the General, looking unutter- 
able things, so that even Cornie was scared and 
flopped down at her feet. Tell me something 
about Europe, and Hungary, and your schools 
— anything for a variety!” 

Verena laughed, rather bitterly, but began a 
series of what to Kate seemed most enchant- 
ing reminiscences of her childhood. She was 
a good narrator, and soon waxed eloquent in 
describing her birthplace, Buda-Pest, the 
shores of the Danube, and her summers in the 
country, till her eager listener could almost see 
the fertile Hungarian plains stretching away 
to meet the Carpathians, and the lonely, grass- 
covered Pusztas, with the storks flying over- 
head at the return of spring. The strange- 


J52 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


sounding Magyar names, the anecdotes of for- 
eign customs, of Verena’s beautiful Hungarian 
mother, and of her twin-brother, all seemed to 
Kate like a fairy tale. She hearkened with 
irrepressible sighs of admiration that ludi- 
crously reminded her of J ake ’s groanings while 
she recited hymns; and when Verena told her 
how, when she was five years old, one of her 
father’s friends, a sculptor, had insisted upon 
being allowed to model herself and her brother 
Ladislaus as the Infant Diana and Apollo, she 
burst out: 

‘‘You always seemed to get such beautiful, 
romantic things into your life, such as never 
happen to anybody here ! Where are the 
statues now?” 

“I believe the artist made several copies in 
marble for sale. He had presented one to us, 
but my father had to travel on business, and it 
remained in the studio. I will show you a 
photograph of it when we go in. How well I 
remember it all; and I always used to want to 
linger and dabble in the sculptor’s clay, and I 
love the moist, clayey smell of a studio now,” 
added Verena, in a melancholy tone which 
rather surprised Kate, who, recalling her own 
sombre, bookish early childhood, wondered 
that her friend should not seem to rejoice more 
in the memory of what, to herself, appeared the 
most delightful of infantine distinctions, and 


UNCERTAINTY, 


J53 


began to crave yet more recollections as they 
sat hidden among the overshadowing bushes, 
catching broken glimpses of the blue afternoon 
sky between the feathery tops, the hum of 
insects mingling with Verena’s deep, rich voice 
as she went on to tell about her friendship with 
the Fleming girls, whose half-German, half- 
English mother was a distant cousin of her own. 

^‘ThaFs another poem!^'' broke in Kate. 
‘^Such beauties — ideal blondes, with artistic 
talent and fine voices — oh, how I envy them! 
It is too delightful to think that Margarethe is 
called Iduna at home because she looks like 
some statue of Iduna, the wife of the Scandi- 
navian god of poetry, who keeps the golden 
apples, which the gods eat in order to renew 
their youth. Such a lovely allegory of the 
power of poetry — but you and I are about the 
only girls here, except Grace Howard, who 
could possibly understand it — Fanny might, but 
she would be sure to laugh at it.^’ 

‘^They donT want poetry — they want fun!’^ 
said Verena decidedly. know better than 
to expect anyone but you to care for these 
things. And Frederica is called Freya, after 
the Scandinavian goddess of the spring. Oh I 
— I ought to have been left to the guardian- 
ship of Mr. Fleming instead of to my brother’s. 
We expected it — it was a shock to find that I 
must be sent over here, to be so wretched, until 
I came to school ’ ’ 


{54 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


Her voice faltered, and she only escaped from 
sobbing by breaking away into another subject, 
making Kate laugh again by tales of her life 
at the Moravian school in Germany, and then 
at a large seminary in Hungary until she was 
nearly thirteen. 

‘‘You have had more real troubles than 
exclaimed Kate at last, lying back upon the dry 
grass and gazing up into the sky, “but you 
seem to have had just ten times niore bright- 
ness, and beauty, and poetry in your life to 
make up for it; so I can^t help envying you.’’ 

Verena’s dark eyebrows contracted and her 
lips quivered. 

“You are not dependent on your half-brother. 
You say you will be comfortably off, though, 
like me, you won’t be rich. I wouldn’t despair. 
Some day you will be able to go back to your 
friends and lead the sort of life that you seem 
intended for.” 

Verena made no reply, but, starting from her 
shady lair, suddenly ran away, followed by 
Kate, as though seeking to throw off her haunt- 
ing sadness by speeding rapidly along until she 
gained a smooth plot of grass encircled by 
seven majestic cedars, remote from the house. 

“Stand over yonder, facing me!” she cried. 

‘ ‘ I will teach you something. ’ ’ 

Kate, laughing, took her station opposite. 

“You shall learn the Csardds — the national 


UNCERTAINTY. 


J55 


dance of my own beloved Hungary,’’ she went 
on, spreading out her graceful arms and rais- 
ing her spirited head, as though listening to 
music. ‘^You know, we Hungarians say it is 
meant to symbolize a wooing — I will be the 
lover, and dance up to you, seeking favor, which 
you may grant me or refuse — it is all dra- 
matic; you must think you are on the stage 
and musn’t be shy. First, you must learn to 
pronounce it Sharddsh — and then try to fancy 
yourself a Hungarian girl, among the scenes 
I have been describing, and think of me as a 
fine young Magyar, with quick, dark eyes and 
black moustache, at some festival in our 
national costume, with a richly furred, braided 
coat and cap with long aigrette, and a curved 
sabre, and jingling spurs” 

‘ Ht is much easier to fancy you such a cava- 
lier than to think of me as a girl whom he 
would be likely to care about!” sighed Kate, 
a wistful look of melancholy sweeping swiftly 
across her face. ‘^Well, my handsome young 
knight — you are probably the only one I shall 
ever have at my feet; so let me make the most 
of you — I am ready. ’ ’ 

Verena, glancing round to see that they were 
unobserved among the spreading cedars, began 
to hum a strange tune, wild, gay and passion- 
ate, as she raised her arms and danced lightly 
to and fro, now assuming the part of the ardent 


J56 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


youth, and then that of a bashful or coquettish 
girl until, fancying her admiring partner suffi- 
ciently instructed to begin, she darted towards 
Kate, who, scarcely knowing what to do, made 
a few uncertain steps away from her, and sud- 
denly stopped short, laughing, blushing and 
nervously twisting her small hands. 

‘‘Kate, Kate!’^ laughed Verena, standing 
still, the short skirt of her gray linen dress 
fluttering round her knees, above her beautiful 
limbs and long red stockings, as her whole tiny 
form swayed with undulating, graceful motion, 
sweeping hack her dark, rich hair, and quiver- 
ing to the tips of her fingers. “You are no 
coquette! You don’t enter into the spirit of 
the Csardds at all. And oh! what a shy, hard 
girl you would he for any man to woo. You 
would never see when anyone liked you — you 
would keep holding off, and running away, and 
being afraid of misunderstanding him, and of 
going too far, until he would have to back out 
for sheer lack of encouragement.” 

“Well,” answered Kate, half -pleased, half- 
vexed at this home thrust, “you said it must all 
be dramatic. I never had to act a coquette in 
my life, and don’t pretend to know anything 
about it, except that you must not be so undra- 
matic as to expect me to rush into your arms 
at once.” 

Her face flushed into momentary girlish pret- 
tiness as, catching the spirit of the Csardds by 


UNCERTAINTY. 


J57 


degrees, she skilfully darted to and fro, avoid- 
ing her eagerly pursuing partner with more 
mirth and zest than V erena had ever dreamed 
could he displayed by the shy Kate, who, gradu- 
ally ceasing her first movements of repulsion, 
now glanced towards her with smiling looks of 
encouragement. Verena smiled and danced 
more quickly after her; but Kate had again 
turned aside, renewing a glimpse of favor only 
to withdraw it. Eound and round they sped 
in the deep cedar shadows on the grass, the late 
sunlight striking the dark, pointed tops. Kate 
was growing sufficiently at home in the strange 
dance to satisfy her friend, who suddenly sank 
on one knee before her, with upturned beseech- 
ing eyes, and dropped, outstretched, suppli- 
cating hands. 

Smiling and somewhat blushing, Kate seized 
Verena ’s right hand, and the next moment the 
dark and golden locks were blown together as 
the two girls whirled round and round, Kate’s 
waist encircled by Verena ’s slight, firm arm 
until they paused, breathless. 

^‘You have danced away your melancholy I” 
said Verena, keenly eyeing her companion’s 
sparkling face as, suddenly withdrawing from 
her partner’s grasp, she ran up to one of the 
great cedars and stood looking into its dark 
shade, half-hidden by the branches trailing on 
the ground. 

Kate smiled and nodded eagerly. 


(58 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


have a new idea — an inspiration from 
your dance/ ^ she replied joyously, with her 
thoughts already far away from the Csardds. 
‘^You shall know it in time, but don’t ask me 
any more now.” 

Verena also nodded, with an air of mystery, 
as, again dropping on one knee before Kate, 
she burst out into a Hungarian sentence which, 
stripped of some of its native flowery idiom, 
and rendered into English, might sound some- 
thing like this : 

There is one thing that I must say to my 
lady-love and apt pupil — that, whatever she 
may say, or fancy in her own shy heart — she 
is no high, unearthly prophetess, or philosopher, 
or Valkyria-maiden, who cares nothing for the 
things of common mortals — no — her obedient 
knight has found her to be responsive to the 
magic of our Csardds at last.” 

With which oracular, though uncompre- 
hended speech, that seemed doubly ludicrous 
from one small atom of girlhood to another, the 
young Magyar, softly laughing, turned away 
and ran in search of Fanny Fox; while Kate, 
pleased, puzzled, wondering what those rippling 
foreign sounds might mean, but absorbed in her 
own fancies, lingered on alone among the 
cedars, nestling beneath their odorous, droop- 
ing boughs, and drinking in wild visions with 
their pure, strengthening fragrance till the bell 
rang to call her homewards. 


CHAPTER IX. 


PLANS AND PLAYS. 

“■"IT THERE is our golden-haired friend 
Y y who calls herself the Sunflower 
* ^ asked Verena of Fanny, in recess, 
concerning Kate, who, like all the Thistles, bore 
a cognomen for private use. ‘‘She was griev- 
ing yesterday about the acting, but this morn- 
ing she was brimming over with spirits. ’ ^ 

“I saw her running after Frau Schulze, so it 
canT be any very bad mischief,’^ answered 
“Foxey,^’ adding playful surmises as to what 
the “Sunflower’^ might have in prospect; but 
even her shrewdness did not suspect that Kate ’s 
energies were busily maturing a grand scheme 
which should gratify their dramatic longings 
and set their enemies at naught. 

Her sudden inspiration during the Csardds 
had been — What if Mrs. Hill could be persuaded 
to allow a second play, in German, where 
Verena ’s accent would be her glory, and the 
Thistles could have it all to suit themselves. 
She resolved, however, to proceed with caution, 
consulting only Frau Schulze, whom she con- 
trived, not without difficulty, to see alone. The 

159 


\60 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

good-natured woman entered into the plan with 
German enthusiasm and childlike eagerness, 
promising to try to procure a short drama 
suited to the occasion and the somewhat limited 
number of actresses strong enough in Deutsch 
to undertake it. Kate fairly hugged the kindly 
Frau, and ran away to where Verena, still 
rather downcast, sat alone in the arbor, turning 
over one of Madame ’s books of plays that had 
been left there, with a doleful visage that nearly 
put Kate ’s resolutions of secrecy to flight. 

^‘Dear girls, don’t mind it!” she exclaimed, 
flinging herself on the seat. ‘‘We’ll have 
tableaux, or something , and a good time yet. 
One comfort, it is just the stupidest play in the 
book this year, so we don’t lose much. Oh ! you 
were reading the ‘Captives of Missolonghi, ’ all 
about modern Greeks fighting the Turks. It’s 
frightfully heavy, full of French bombast, but 
we had a charming time with it three years ago. 
I would rather act in something wild, and fool- 
ish, and melodramatic, with national costumes, 
and tableaux, and singing, and getting killed, 
and lying dead on the stage, than in anything 
commonplace and sensible, wouldn’t you? 
Madame ’s lady friend, who amused herself 
when she boarded at a convent by writing these 
plays for the pupils, doesn’t bother herself with 
French classical traditions, for she kills us off 
whenever she chooses. It’s perfectly heavenly 
to lie dead on the stage ’ ’ 


PLANS AND PLAYS. 


J6J 

^‘Yes; but I would prefer dancing, or sing' 
ing, or doing something. ’ ^ 

^‘Oh, yes; my ideal of a perfect role would 
be one like Julius Caesar’s, where one is by 
turns a hero, a corpse, and a ghost, ’ ’ said Kate, 
with an air of experience. ‘‘And I can’t help 
envying that actor who was so absorbed in his 
part that he stabbed himself in earnest — and 
then had the courage to raise himself up and 
utter his ‘last words.’ That’s what I call 
splendid, a genuine dying in harness. But 
there’s nothing so delicious as a ridiculous 
tragedy, and the ahdience seemed to enjoy those 
‘Captives’ as much as we did. And I did feel 
so perfectly happy, acting a little Greek boy, 
whose father had been killed in battle, and 
having to spout pompous verses about our 
native Hellas. There was an allusion to some 
great, heroic poet-stranger, who had given his 
life for Greece — of course, it was Byron — and' 
though the lines weren’t worthy of the subject, 
I was in ecstasy at having to roll them off, 
especially as Herr Schulze started a clapping 
that spread through the audience. And Vir- 
ginia Leslie was my brother, and we both got 
killed, with ever so many more, and had to lie 
dead on the stage while the rest spouted verses 
and ’ ’ 

“Perfectly lovely; but are there no comedies 
in this book?” 


- n 


J62 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


^‘Oh, yes; plenty; but they are worse than 
the tragedies, just commonplace, heavy stuff. 
I hate to see the curtain rise on a room scene, 
with people in nineteenth-century clothes. I 
feel swindled; I would rather have the wildest 
bosh of a romantic drama, with stage effects, 
than any farce, or comedy, or society play that 
I have ever seen yet. ^ ’ 

Kate was provokingly good and studious that 
evening. Verena, being of a most mercurial 
temperament, soon cast off her sadness so far 
as to indulge in sundry whispered comments 
upon Miss -Clive’s dramatic way of reading 
prayers to her friend, who, sorely afraid lest 
she might do something to mar their prospects, 
affected an utter deafness and blindness to 
Verena ’s antics, causing both Fanny and the 
Hungarian to rally her about ^‘having a good 
fit,” and asking her, as they went upstairs, 
whether she had been spouting any more hymns 
for old Jake. Kate bore the teasing with a 
calmness which only made them redouble it — 
but, fully preoccupied with her own plans, 
nothing they might say could vex her now. 

Frau Schulze found it no easy matter to ful- 
fill her promise ; for, among all the German plays 
examined, not one proved to be what was 
wanted, and, after several days of vain efforts 
to satisfy her own and Kate ’s critical tastes, she 
acknowledged herself to be obliged to give it up. 


PLANS AND PLAYS. 


J63 


This, however, was no great blow to Kate, 
who had all the time been imagining what the 
wished-for drama ought to be, until she found 
herself inventing the faint shadow of a plot 
and putting the lines together. The whole 
childish, fragmentary thing was already so far 
shaped in her own mind that it was almost with 
relief that she heard of the Frau’s ill success, 
and nervously, with many blushes, confessed 
that she thought herself able to write a short 
play, in prose, if Frau Schulze would correct 
the German and if Mrs. Hill would let them act 
it, and allow none of Julia’s set to interfere. 
Frau Schulze, much surprised, after some delib- 
eration consented to go with her nervous pupil 
to seek the required permission, secretly some- 
what doubting whether it would be won. Kate 
grew so frightened that she fully expected as 
curt a refusal as Mrs. Hill was ever known to 
give; but the latter, naturally gentle, and pity- 
ing the child’s distress, gave a conditional con- 
sent, depending upon the merits of the play and 
of its authoress, which raised the mercurial 
spirits of the latter to the seventh heaven of 
delight and gratitude. 

Profound secrecy was, as yet, to be observed 
towards all except those whom Kate had 
chosen for the troupe of her simple drama, the 
outlines whereof she now began to explain to 
M'^s. Hill and the much-interested Frau, who 


S64 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


gladly consented to be stage manager. Grace, 
Agnes, Verena, Fanny and several others were 
that evening summoned by Miss Dorinda to a 
private conference in Mrs. HilFs study, where 
Miss Clive (whom the Frau, before her depar- 
ture, had contrived to win over to most san- 
guine wishes for the success of the piece) with 
her usual dignity announced the proposed nov- 
elty to her astonished audience, while poor 
Kate, crouching in her seat, looked ready to 
sink beneath the gaze of their wondering eyes, 
^‘Remember,” Miss Clive went on abruptly, 
‘Hhat none of you are to utter a word in school 
concerning this. Another thing I also wish to 
impress upon you. This play is to be the sole 
production of Katharine Armstrong. You are 
not to annoy her by making suggestions. 
Grace, who is the head pupil in German among 
the seniors, and Verena, who has a birthright to 
that language, may be permitted to assist her, 
should she desire it ; but no one else. I myself 
will aid Frau Schulze in revising it when it 
shall be finished. Katharine, I must again 
remind you that this composition must not be 
suffered to interfere with your ordinary 
studies. You shall be given extra time by being 
excused from your music, and dancing, and 
from Frau Schulze’s classes. You are aware, 
of course, how much will now depend upon your 
general conduct! I shall be observant of you. 
That is all. You may go.” 


PLANS AND PLAYS. 


J65 


Quietly leaving this august presence, the 
astonished stage troupe, on their way back to 
parlor or school-room, burst into eager com- 
ments of pleasure or surprise. Verena, sud- 
denly roused from her dejection, showed her 
vehement delight by valiantly protecting Kate 
from annoyance at the hands of the excited 
girls, who beset her with innumerable ques- 
tions; while ^‘Foxey,’^ though in reality ready 
to serve as her warmest coadjutor, began rally- 
ing her until the poor little would-be dramatist, 
seeking privacy, slipped into the vacant seat 
beside Grace Howard. Fanny and the rest 
took their places, but Cornie, usually passing 
her evenings in study, now that examination 
was approaching, began with unwonted curi- 
osity, Don’t try to put me off. I know some- 
thing is up ; just look at Kate ! ’ ’ 

‘Hlush! nothing is wrong,” Verena whis- 
pered hurriedly. ‘^You have a bad conscience, 
I suppose, and fancy how the General has dis- 
covered you put a certain fine, big odoriferous 
onion inside of Madame ’s crochet-bag three 
weeks ago, and it lay there, scenting her work for 
five days, till she shook out her bag in the parlor 
one evening, and the vegetable bounced down 
on the floor, and we all knew who had done it, 
and had to feign ignorance, and bear a storm 
of French wrath that should have fallen on 
your evil head.” 


)66 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


Cornie^s spasmodic chuckle, fortunately for 
her two companions, who wanted to be rid of 
her, brought down a rebuke from Miss Almira 
and a peremptory summons to take her books 
and seat herself apart from the others. Silence 
followed, but Fanny and Yerena, while copying 
off their next compositions, could not refrain 
from exchanging whispers, as they glanced over 
to where Kate sat, musing and scribbling, while 
Grace wrote at her side. 

‘‘Compare those two,’^ began Foxey. 
‘ ‘ Grace works away at her valedictory, and gets 
on, and makes no fuss ; but poor Kate is nearly 
frantic already. Of course you know; what 
is it to be ? ” 

“I don’t know, and wouldn’t tell you if I 
did,” muttered Yerena, secretly quivering with 
eagerness. “I’ll trust her to make it good.” 

“Don’t fidget so; the Dragon’s eye is on you 
now. Of course I won’t worry her. She’ll 
have worry enough; but I hope she won’t give 
me any high-flown, tragic part to spout, for I 
should giggle.” 

“Nonsense, the General said it mustn’t be 
anything tragic,” answered Yerena, inwardly 
certain that Kate’s imagination would run 
away into a romantic vein. “Something melo- 
dramatic, and full of effects, I suppose.” 

“There’s nothing that Kate adores so much 
as something romantic and full of effects,” 


PLANS AND PLAYS, 


167 


Fanny resumed, with an earnestness which 
soothed Verena’s rising wrath. ^‘When she 
first came here she loved to set the little ones 
to act things out of allegories and fairy tales. 
Once she and Virginia Leslie were missing, and 
the General sent some of us to find them. We 
heard a dismal tooting from a tin horn, far 
down the garden, and there was Virginia, with 
a wreath of wild carrot flowers on her pretty 
curls, sitting under a tree, blowing the whistle, 
and pretending to be the good little Minna, in 
^The Distant Hills,’ playing on her flute. She 
jumped up and ran off to where Kate was lying, 
eyes shut, and hair all in disorder, close to the 
wall, in imitation of the naughty little Ehoda — 
who woke up, greatly abashed. And, another 
day, the General met her heading a troop, whom 
she had persuaded to try to act the ‘Shadow 
of the Cross.’ They had managed to put on 
night-gowns over their frocks, and had parted 
their hair, and tied black bands round their 
foreheads, like the girls in those old-fashioned 
illustrations — and were marching, holding up 
little crosses made out of rough sticks tied 
together. You may fancy the effect of the pro- 
cession, especially as Kate was trying to induce 
them to do it more thoroughly by taking off their 
shoes and stockings, hut they wouldn’t. Miss 
Clive was horrified, especially as Kate had no 
idea of being irreverent, and was quite thunder- 


\6Z 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


struck at being scolded and made responsible 
for all the others, who, of course, were glad to 
cast all the blame on her. I ought to add that 
Virginia was upstairs with a cold, so Kate had 
no guardian angel that afternoon. I always 
say she runs the church and stage into each 
other, for she adores a jumble of the dramatic 
with- the serious. Why, when she was chris- 
tened’’ — 

‘‘Christened?” Verena repeated, forgetting 
her safe role of indifference and gazing eagerly 
into Fanny’s fine dark eyes. “What? Here?” 

“Hush! speak lower. This was the way of 
it. Kate arrived here when she was just nine, 
soon after her father died ; her mother had died 
when Bess came, three years before. Kate and 
Virginia were admitted as a favor, under the 
usual age of ten. I was ten and a newcomer, 
but could take care of myself. Well, very soon 
it came out that Kate not only did not know her 
catechism, but had never been baptized; her 
parents didn’t make much of her; they pre- 
ferred Elisabeth, and a boy who died. You 
may fancy the feelings of our General, who 
instantly wrote to Kate’s guardians for per- 
mission to have her baptized at once. Her 
uncle, of course, gave his leave, in a lofty, indif - 
ferent sort of way; and her aunt, though she 
was quite willing to be considered a godmother, 
begged Miss Clive to act as her deputy. Mrs. 


PLANS AND PLAYS. 


J69 


Leslie, who had run down to visit her girls and 
liked Kate, offered to be one godmother, and the 
General stood as proxy for Mrs. Armstrong. 
We couldn’t raise a godfather for her at this 
most feminine and nunlike establishment, so 
what did they do but ask Herr Schulze to under- 
take the office. He’s a Lutheran, but he came, 
and insisted upon believing he was meant to 
represent Kate’s uncle — we had some trouble 
to make him understand, though he was quite 
willing to assume the responsibility. He made 
a very dignified appearance, and has been 
uncommonly paternal to Kate ever since. The 
Lrau came, too; and altogether there was a 
good deal of talk about the whole thing. But 
you should have seen how Kate enjoyed it all. 
She behaved very properly; but we could tell 
what an immense delight it was to the poor 
child to be suddenly made the center of impor- 
tance by several older persons, after being an 
Ugly Duckling for so long at home.” 

^^And so she was christened?” said Verena. 
who had stopped writing and was listening with 
a repressed interest which urged Fanny to 
go on. 

‘Wes; one fine Sunday afternoon in May, by 
Dr. Grimshaw’s young predecessor, who was 
called to a big city parish soon after. Seven 
children were baptized, and she was the small- 
est, though some were younger than herself. 


J70 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


Miss Clive had had Kate’s hair all crimped till 
it stood out like a sort of aureole ; I never saw 
her look so pretty as she did then, in her white 
frock — and she behaved most beautifully for a 
long time, for she had Virginia to help her find 
pleasure in being good. More than we can say 
of you; why don’t you vary the situation by 
a little virtue now and then? Look, how she 
writes and scratches out!” 

Kate’s brain, meanwhile, was in a perplexed, 
but joyous whirl of fancies. It was well, Grace 
Howard thought, that she must be restrained 
by the smallness of her troupe and by the 
various scenic difficulties from attempting too 
wild a flight for her ‘‘Donkey on Parnassus,” 
as she called her would-be Pegasus, after a 
magazine article she had read, wherein cer 
tain very small poets were playfully described 
as “donkey-riders” on the sacred mount. 
Grace, taking advantage of Miss Almira’s 
absence, crossed over to Verena’s desk to dis- 
cover the reason of her smothered bursts of 
laughter with Fann^^, fearing that they might 
be planning some silly joke. Verena had illus- 
trated the situation by a large and very spirited 
pencil sketch, wherein Kate, her long locks 
streaming, sat upon the back of a winged don- 
key, madly careering aloft through space; while 
Fanny was whispering, “Why didn’t you make 
the poor donkey painfully plodding round the 


PLANS AND PLAYS. 


m 


foot of Parnassus, with drooping ears and 
wings, through a muddy labyrinth marked 
‘German Construction,^ and poor Kate, nearly 
dropping otf his back, staring at her rugged 
path among huge boulders labeled ‘Particles’ 
and ‘Separable Verbs,’ ‘Government of Prep- 
ositions,’ and so forth. And, far above, you 
should have shown the top of Parnassus with 
the genuine Pegasus, at an unattainable dis- 
tance to Kate’s long-eared steed. That would 
be ‘realism,’ Grace, wouldn’t it?” 

“Yes,” said Grace, “but your realism doesn’t 
express Kate’s present condition half so well 
as Verena’s triumphant donkey, bearing her 

aloft into the clouds” 

“ ‘With a host of furious fancies 

Whereof she is commander,’ ” 

broke in Verena, viewing her sketch with satis- 
faction. “It’s the way to be happy. But, oh! 
I can’t quite catch that appealing expression 

in a donkey’s eye which is so fascinating” 

“Thistles and donkeys are naturally sup- 
posed to have an affinity for each other,” said 
Fanny. “As for Kate, she’s happy, with her 
head full of 

“ ‘Forests, and enchantments drear. 

Where more is meant than meets the ear, ’ 

and I wouldn’t tease her now for the world. 
Only I know that her play will be sure to be too 


J72 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


poetical, for she breathes in that element unless 
she happens to be running after something 
ridiculous. And she’ll be certain to make her 
characters talk pure Katharine Gordon Arm- 
strong and nothing else. It’s a tine, strong, 
spirited name, though she ’s such an over- 
romantic girl that I don’t see how she ever can 
be very happy.” 

‘^Her happiness, as Verena says, is to be 
found in imaginative things,” said Grace, with 
a sigh. ^^Kate is too much of an idealist for 
her own good ; but we may he sure of one thing 
— she won’t give us any lovesick stutf to spout, 
whatever else she may do. ’ ’ 

‘^Of course not,” said Verena merrily, as she 
went on drawing. She’s more likely to set 
us raving about ghosts, and gnomes, and elves, 
and so forth. There; I’ve put in a crescent 
moon, and stars, and a comet, with some fine big 
bats and horned owls flying about. So you may 
give her my sketch, Grace, with my compli- 
ments, before the Dragon comes back/^ 


CHAPTER X. 


SUSPENSE. 

E xcitement, however exhilarating, soon 
began to tell upon Kate ’s sensitive 
nerves and over-active brain. Her sleep 
grew broken; the silence and darkness round 
her made her more wakeful than light or 
music. She often wished that the mild, calm 
night, with the waning moon rising yonder and 
sending her pale shaft of light through the open 
end-window would last unbroken, with its soft 
breeze rustling the leaves in the garden and 
stirring her own fancies anew, until she had 
had time to shape and to write down all that 
floated so clearly before her in the still dark- 
ness. She slept at last from exhaustion, and 
awoke feeling as matter-of-fact as Cornie her- 
self. Miss Clive detected languor in her face, 
and, fearing that she had been allowed to under- 
take too much, suddenly relaxed her rules, 
excusing Kate from certain studies hitherto 
insisted upon until her work should be finished. 
Kate’s outburst of spirits at this news served 
to set her fancy into fresh activity, and sus- 
tained her amid the manifold annoyances she 

173 


J74 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

underwent from the questioning of Cornie and 
others, who marveled exceedingly that Kate 
should be excused from so many lessons and 
spend so much time in Grace Howard’s room, 
whither she betook herself, by invitation, to 
escape disturbance and be able to taste the soli- 
tude she enjoyed. 

‘‘Kate is nearly through and I’m thankful,” 
whispered Grace to Fanny one evening, in the 
school-room. ‘ ‘ She says she would like to hang 
over it, altering and improving, for weeks yet, 
and the tension is bad for her. ’ ’ 

“We Thistles have all been kept in a state 
of tension on her account,” whispered Fanny. 
“Such a fidget! Once she tore up a page and 
the breeze blew the fragments down into the 
garden. Kate’s imagination, of course, beheld 
Julia & Co. hard at work piecing these precious 
scraps together; so off we went to pick them 
up. We found nearly all, and Verena climbed 
up and brought down some that were sticking 
in the grape vine; but Kate vowed there must 
be more, and kept going about like a Parisian 
chiffonier, pouncing with a crooked hairpin 
upon every stray bit of written paper within 
walking distance. Of course, she has had 
twenty narrow escapes from the Nettles, and 
Elisabeth met her haunting your domicile and 
began scolding her for idleness. Poor Kate ! — 
I often wonder how she will develop, and 


SUSPENSE, 


J75 


whether she will go to college simply to escape 
from what Cornie calls Professor Armstrong’s 
terribly scientific home.” 

^^If the truth were known,” said Grace, ‘‘I 
believe it would be found that half of the girls 
who go to college do so in order to avoid some- 
thing unpleasant at home, or to enlarge their 
circle of acquaintances, or from some other 
motive than a love for study. But I hardly 
think a college life would suit Kate. She is 
too dreamy. She reminds me of Hans Ander- 
sen’s ^Little Mermaid,’ with her sadness and 
her longings for the unknown world above the 
waves. And, when I said so to Agnes, Bess 
broke in, dry and disagreeable, declaring that 
the Mermaid must have been ‘very discon- 
tented’ to have had any such longings. She 
hasn’t enough imagination herself to under- 
stand it, so, of course, she stamps on it, to dis- 
play her own superiority. It is cruel that 
Kate must have such an uncongenial sister! 
Perhaps it may drive her to a college — hut I 
can ’t think of her as in her element at any. She 
would probably count for far less there than 
here, and would feel shy, and solitary, and fail 
to show herself to advantage, and would only 
retire into her shell amid the crowd.” 

“There, I’ve given it to Frau Schulze at 
last!’’ cried Kate, rushing into the gjunnasium, 


176 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


where Verena awaited her, the next afternoon. 
^‘She is to stay and pass judgment upon it — 
and I’m quaking, for it’s not the mere love of 
acting — I should feel so ashamed to have my 
play condemned after so much fuss, and Fanny 
and some others would tease me forever.” 

^^Of course! Come into the garden and 
watch the storm rising. ’ ’ 

Hand in hand they raced out of doors, escap- 
ing with difficulty from some Thistles who tried 
to capture them for a game of Twenty Ques- 
tions, and breathing only when they gained 
their shelter among the bushes. 

“What a relief to be here alone!” sighed 
Kate, glancing at the low, leaden clouds on the 
horizon. “Hark, the wind is rising, and whirl- 
ing the dust, and flapping the vine leaves ! Oh, 
how wild and delicious this is ! ” 

‘ ^ Let us climb into that quince tree and rock, ’ ’ 
said Verena. “I wish there were more noise 
and we might sing without being overheard.” 

^ ‘ I wish we were higher, ’ ’ said Kate, as they 
mounted among the low, gnarled boughs. 
“Wasn’t it Michael Angelo who, when he was 
a boy, went up into a tree to watch a storm? 
Oh, I know how he must have exulted in it ! ” 

“I should like to go up into that tall cherry 
tree yonder,” cried Verena, whom her friend 
was viewing with intense admiration and secret 
sighs of longing to possess such beauty, as, 


SUSPENSE. 


Ml 


standing erect, and clinging to the branches, she 
upturned her fine profile and streaming hair 
against the dark, scudding storm clouds. 

^‘No — it’s beyond bounds, and we mustn’t 
spoil our prospects. Oh — Verena, you can 
understand how all this grand commotion of 
the storm, and the thunder, and the wild wind, 
and the flapping leaves, and the lowering sky, 
seems to mingle with my own inward excitement 
and suspense, until I feel ready to sing, or 
scream, because it sets me frantic with delight. ’ ’ 
^^Of course I understand; didn’t Foxey tell 
me how Julia had named me ^ Elsie Venner,’ 
because I am unlike herself, and enjoy all kinds 
of things undreamed of in her philosophy. I 
suppose half the girls would call us cranks for 
being here, delighting in the uproar, instead of 
cowering indoors and squealing. Hark! — the 
thunder! It makes me think of that chorus 

in the ^ Bride of Messina,’ about” 

^ ^ Stop ! ’ ’ interrupted Kate. ^ Ht ’s too appro- 
priate for me just now, for I feel ^in the power 
of dreadful Destiny’ when I think of Frau 
Schulze, and being summoned for sentence, and 
— hark, some one is calling us ! ” 

Grace Howard came running, breathless. 
^‘Come back at oncC. We are all ordered to 
go in.” 

A few large drops pattered on the branches 
as she spoke, and by the time they reached the 


12 


m 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


house the heavy shower poured down in all its 
fury. Kate, nervously awaiting her summons, 
started violently whenever anyone opened the 
door of the school-room, whither she and 
Verena had fled for refuge from the incessant 
chatter of the parlor, and grew yet more anx- 
ious at finding that she did not encounter Frau 
Schulze at supper, that meal being served her 
in Mrs. Hill’s study, where Kate’s imagination 
pictured her as condemning both the drama and 
its author. Her studies for the morrow were 
finished, hut she sought escape from a noisy 
game at Proverbs by again going to her desk, 
where she had not sat long before Cornie came 
in search of her, accompanied by several other 
able-bodied Thistles, who playfully threatened 
to carry off herself and Verena by force. 

‘ ‘ Let me go, Cornie ! ’ ’ cried Kate, struggling 
out of her tall friend’s grasp. ‘Ht’s all very 
fine to pretend that this invasion is caused by 
a wish to see more of me — but you know ver}^ 
well that you want me, or Verena, to sit by you, 
and prompt you finely through the game, in 
French, because you can’t possibly get along by 
yourself — so don’t try to catch me by talking 
moonshine of any sort!” 

^ ^ Kate is cutting her wisdom teeth at last ! ’ ’ 
muttered one of the girls, to the secret satis- 
faction of the person referred to. Verena, 
meanwhile, had mounted on top of her desk, 


SUSPENSE. 


179 


playfully fighting off their outstretched hands, 
and declaring she would only yield to superior 
strength ; and there is no telling how the scene 
would have ended if Miss Almira, entering to 
preserve discipline, had not sent the aggressive 
crew, as they did not pretend to have come there 
to study, back into the parlor at once. 

Kate and Verena put up their desk-lids and 
exchanged low whispers, while their friends, the 
actresses-expectant of the German troupe, came 
dropping in, one by one, pretending to he 
absorbed in work, but in reality awaiting 
further developments. A dozen pairs of eager 
eyes gazed with sympathy after Kate’s shrink- 
ing form when, a little while after, she received 
a summons from Miss Dorinda, and, taking her 
arm to steady her own uncertain footsteps, left 
the room. 

Worse than the dentist’s!” murmured 
Fanny to Verena, who nodded. 

Mild, simple-hearted Dorinda hardly knew 
what made the child so nervous, but her inno- 
cent, wondering sympathy helped to soothe her. 
She put her arm round Kate and almost carried 
her across the dreaded threshold. Minos and 
Ehadamanthus awaited her in the persons of 
Miss Hill, Miss Clive and Frau Schulze, seated 
round the upper end of the table, at the foot of 
which Kate sank into a chair, her heart beating 
so fast that it nearly suffocated her. Kate had 


J80 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


never fainted in her life, and, like many girls of 
her age, fancied that it must be very fine and 
romantic; she thought now that it would be so 
delightful to fall down in the midst of her 
critics and frighten them all by lying on the 
floor for a long time before she could be made 
to ^‘come to,’’ and absorb them so completely 
with fears for her body that they should he 
unable to exercise harshness on the subject of 
her mind. Alas ! she remained provokingly 
conscious, and suffering in proportion. 

Miss Clive, as usual, did not wait to let any- 
one else have the first word. 

Katharine Armstrong!” she began 
abruptly, her piercing eyes devouring poor 
Kate and the surprised Dorinda at her side. 
^^Your production has been read aloud by Frau 
Schulze, who has also made the requisite cor- 
rections of its occasional faults in German 
grammar and construction. A certain amount 
of juvenile redundancy may, at your age, be 
excused. ’ ’ 

Kate’s head, not very far above the top of 
the table as she sat drooping, now sank almost 
out of sight. 

'‘We think, however,” Miss Clive went on, 
with a torturing solemnity and slowness, "that 
—although there is, naturally, a great deal that 
is open to harsh criticism from a literary point 
of view — that, in spite of certain dramatic 


SUSPENSE. 


J8J 


shortcomings, and of high-flown expressions, 
to say nothing of certain improbabilities and an 
utter lack of humor, which is au uupaidouable 
defect iu a production of this nature, intended 
for a school — in spite, also, of the somewhat 
hackneyed nature of the chief incidents — great 
originality in such matters being scarcely to 
be expected from one so young as yourself — 
that, all things considered, especially the time 
and pains yon have bestowed upon this play — 
it is possible that something may be made of 
it (Kate felt so weak with the reaction from 
her terror that she fairly gasped). I will not 
now enter into a discussion upon particulars. 
Mrs. Hill has consented to its performance’^ 

Kate’s increasing agitation brought Miss 
Clive’s oration to an untimely end, for she burst 
into a fit of hysterical sobbing. Miss Clive, 
half-angry and half-alarmed, sprang to her side, 
and, scolding at Dorinda to vent her own irrita- 
tion, stood over Kate, vainly endeavoring to 
talk her out of her passion of tears ; while Mrs. 
Hill, much distressed, and Fran Schulze, over- 
flowing with voluble sympathy in her native 
tongue, plied her with scent bottles, ice water 
and reassuring words. 

^‘Adelaide, yon must not scold her now,” 
interrupted Mrs. Hill in a low voice. ‘ ‘ Yon had 
better go and tell the others. ’ ’ 

Miss Clive, who always treated her nominal 


J82 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


head with great deference, departed, to the 
relief of Kate, who quickly regained her com- 
posure, much assisted by the praises which the 
excited Frau bestowed upon her play, with a 
few mild attempts at criticism, to satisfy her 
own conscience. 

The game of Proverbs was just breaking up 
when Miss Clive (followed by the expectant 
troupe, who quietly slipped out of the school- 
room as soon as they heard her crossing the 
hall) appeared in all her stateliness in the 
parlor and, commanding silence, announced the 
unexpected news of the German performance, 
to the infinite surprise of nearly all present, and 
the huge relief of certain guilty consciences 
among several young madcaps, who, of course, 
fancied she had come to publish sundry 
misdemeanors of their own, and bring them to 
justice. 

^‘Well, I declare!’^ exclaimed Cornie. ‘‘So 
this is the meaning of all Kate’s hiding away 
and queer conduct! Girls, won’t she enjoy it? 
She’ll outshine Bess some day, after all. Her 
majesty will be jealous.” 

“Bess writes and acts poorly herself; so, of 
course, it will be her object to decry Kate and 
spoil her pleasure, in her amiable sisterly fash- 
ion,” said Fanny, “but she’ll take out her 
grumble and subside into high and mighty 
indifference. Julia’s the one who will try to 


SUSPENSE. 


J83 


worry us — look at her, with her malicious, sar- 
castic, supercilious face ! ’ ^ 

For once Fanny had reason to rejoice that 
her teacher’s quick ears had overheard what she 
had said. 

‘‘Julia Maxwell!” suddenly exclaimed Miss 
Clive, turning round and confronting that 
young lady and her especial friends, whom she 
proceeded to summon by name and made appear 
in a row before her. “You have all heard 
what I gave out just now. You are all to 
appear in a play where the characters will be 
sustained by yourselves, and those whom you 
have chosen. You have no reason to complain 
of not being considered in this matter. I now 
request of you (Miss Clive grew so solemn 
that Fanny, as she said afterwards, could only 
compare her to a clergyman reading the Mar- 
riage Service at ‘I require and charge of you 
both’) — I now request of you, as gentlewomen, 
that you will, each and all, give me your solemn 
word of honor here, in the presence of the 
school, that you will not by deed or word, much 
less by any miserable tricks, utterly beneath 
the dignity of ladies, endeavor to annoy or in 
any way molest Katharine Armstrong, or any 
of those who shall be united with her for this 
amusement now in prospect. ’ ’ 

Julia’s arched, handsome dark eyebrows had 
been gradually drawn together into as near a 


J84 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR* 

scowl as she dared assume in the presence of 
her resolute young commander, who stood with 
her head thrown back, her black braided hair 
shining in the lamplight, arms folded and a 
lion-like expression on her face. 

^^You have heard meT^ Miss Clive went on 
quietly. await your answer.’’ 

Don’t be foolish, but promise. Why should 
we all get into trouble?” whispered Cecilia 
Morgan to her hesitating and unwilling com- 
panion, who yet remained silent, while the whole 
array of girls looked on, expectant. 

Julia muttered some sulky reply to Cecilia, 
but her effrontery gradually gave way under 
the eyes of Miss Clive, Madame Verrier, two 
other teachers and nearly eighty scholars, and, 
after a momentary silence, she grumbled the 
required promise. 

‘^Give me your hand and speak out bravely, 
as a gentlewoman should,” began Miss Clive, 
extending her own strong right hand towards 
J ulia ’s thin, cold fingers, which met hers with a 
slight, unwilling grasp. 

promise!” repeated Julia, in an audible 
voice, glad to relinquish her hold and withdraw 
behind Cecilia and the others, who reluctantly, 
as though branded as professional teasers, but 
without hesitation, came forward in turn to 
give their word. 

‘M’m thankful for this,” whispered Grace to 


SUSPENSE. 


J85 


Fanny and Verena, who seemed scarcely able 
to contain their joy at seeing their chronic ene- 
mies bound over to preserve the peace hence- 
forth. Julia is mischievous and malicious; 
but she is not likely to break a public pledge 
for the sake of any tricks, and the others will 
follow her example. ^ ’ 

^ ^ Hm ! ’ ’ said Fanny. ^ ^ I ’ll give her the bene- 
fit of the doubt and keep my eye on her all the 
same. Well, poor Kate is out of torment, any- 
how, so let us go to congratulate her and hear 
about our roles at last.” 


CHAPTER XI. 


EXPECTATION, 



ERENA, take your Hungarian dress and 


those furred boots. Grace, do not let 


^ your set of costumes be mixed with 
Julia’s. Frances, stop your incessant chatter! 
And Katharine, I request again that you will 
endeavor to restrain your unfortunate excita- 
bility, which may readily cause you to break 
down and ruin the whole.” 

Thus Miss Clive bestowed her parting coun- 
sels ere leaving her pupils to rehearse under 
Frau Schulze’s auspices, luckily without seeing 
the smiles which her own excited reference to 
Kate’s excitability had provoked. Regarding 
the exalted spirits that she strove to repress, 
the General might have found a sufficient cause 
thereof in a certain thin pamphlet-like book 
in Kate’s hand, which was nothing else than 
her play, corrected and improved by Frau 
Schulze, and arrayed in the dignity of type. 
Miss Clive’s edict that Kate must not be 
annoyed by suggestions from her troupe was, 
as might have been expected, much more ‘‘hon- 
ored in the breach than in the observance;” 


186 


EXPECTATION. 


187 


since every girl, of course, had some notion 
concerning her own part which she tried to 
carry out. 

Boldly repeating Miss Clive’s assertion that 
the piece lacked humor, Fanny Fox and Verena 
combined to introduce lively interludes into the 
dialogue, as they said, for their Anglo-Saxon 
audience, who, if able to follow the German 
text at all, would certainly require something 
more than the pathetic, the romantic, or even 
the melodramatic to sustain them under the 
four acts into which it must unavoidably be 
divided. Grace and Agnes conspired with 
another prominent actress to improve their 
speeches, gladly assisted by Frau Schulze, their 
example soon followed by others, until the play, 
as amended, contrasted strangely enough with 
what its young authoress had first written. 
Mrs. Hill, finding that learning from the manu- 
script involved too much time and trouble, had 
had a number of copies printed for the use of 
the girls, to the unspeakable delight of Kate, 
who, as ^‘Foxey” had foretold, was being 
treated by Queen Bess” to a series of snubs 
and rough remarks intended to twit her, and 
give vent to a lurking jealousy, and dislike at 
seeing her becoming important. This, how- 
ever, did not seriously affect her happiness; 
since her sister’s conduct, ostensibly based 
upon regret that Kate should waste her time 
in scribbling silly stuff when she ought to be 


J88 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

only thinking of study, was clearly seen through 
by all, affording general amusement, and ren- 
dering Kate still more of a heroine by contrast. 

What between her own romantic tastes and 
the dread of making her play intolerably heavy 
to a more or less uncomprehending audience, 
she had resolved to spare no pains to render 
it as effective and spectacular as possible. It 
was well that she found such an ally as Frau 
Schulze and the energetic Herr Professor, who, 
always partial to his “ PatJienkind/^ as he 
called his godchild, soon caught the prevailing 
dramatic fever, spending most of his spare time 
at Mount Cedar, working as stage carpenter, 
scene painter and leader of the orchestra, insist- 
ing that, in Verena’s honor, the overture should 
begin with the national Hungarian air ‘ ‘ Rakot- 
sky’s March,’’ followed by the ‘^Wacht am 
Rhein,” in compliment to Kate. 

But — roses, as we are always being told, are 
never without thorns, and Kate Armstrong’s 
little bouquet of dramatic enjo^unent had its full 
share thereof. Her play began with a dialogue 
between two peasant boys, which both Miss 
Clive and the Frau declared must be left out, 
for fear of unduly prolonging the German piece, 
following, as it must, on the heels of the French 
one. Another of the ‘ ‘ Gravamena, ” * as 


* Grievances stated by the Hungarian Diet to the King. 


EXPECTATION. 


J89 


Verena playfully chose to call them, was that 
the Will-0 ’-the-Wisps were not allowed to dance 
with lighted torches, Mrs. Hill deciding that 
this was entirely too dangerous ; while yet 
another arose from the ruthless suppression of 
a scene between two charming Koholds, which, 
though praised by Frau Schulze as highly 
appropriate in itself, must yield to the awful 
necessity of not keeping the audience too long. 

The rehearsal went forward, with some mis- 
takes, but much enjoyment. 

Where is the jewel for the Hungarian 
ladyT^ asked the tall brunette who had been 
^^cast” for that part. 

^‘1 forgot! I’ll run and fetch my locket,” 
cried Kate, so excited that her cherished keep- 
sake no longer reminded her of mournful 
things. 

‘‘No,” Verena broke in; “I have something 
which will do even better. ” 

The girls crowded round her, uttering excla- 
mations of delight, as, opening a carved jewel 
case of dark, scented wood, she displayed a 
large, richly wrought locket of massive gold. 

“How beautiful!” cried Grace. “Is that a 
ruby in the center?” 

“No, a carbuncle; and the initials in tiny 
pearls are tliose of my grandparents. My 
grandfather was a full Magyar, but my grand- 
mother was half a German. This was his gift 
to her more than fifty years ago.” 


J90 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


Verena seemed the embodiment of keen, girl- 
ish enjoyment as she showed her foreign- 
looking treasure, exulting in the prorninent part 
assigned to her, forgetting her past melancholy 
and laughingly receiving Kate’s assertion that 
it was delightful to find she was partly Ger- 
man, because Kate herself had a far-off streak 
of German blood. ‘‘And I love carbuncles — 
there is something romantic about them. Don’t 
you remember how Margaret Fuller called them 
her own especial gems? — and she is one of my 
greatest ‘objects of interest,’ like Mrs. Brown- 
ing and Emily Bronte, and — don’t laugh so, 
Fanny ; you know you must respect such women , 
even though you mayn’t respect me.” 

“Actresses!” began Grace, “if you dawdle 
over that locket any more we shall never get 
past the first act to-day. ’ ’ 

“There’s no time to waste, for our char- 
acters are all staked on the success of this bril- 
liant novelty,” said Cornie. “We are all 
blessing Kate for contriving so many ‘supers,’ 
large and small, that not only every Thistle of 
Mount Cedar, but everybody, except those Net- 
tles and Queen Bess, is to appear. I’m to be 
gorgeously attired as a gypsy girl in the first 
part, and all in black, as a nun, in the second; 
and I mean to do my ‘walking roles’ so beauti- 
fully that no one will think it is the same 
person.” 


EXPECTATION. 


19\ 


is the most exciting piece we have had 
since that one Madame likes, about the Hugue- 
nots,’’ said Sophie Howard. ‘‘Don’t you 
remember how we enjoyed that scene where we 
poor persecuted fugitives were hiding in such 
a delightful cave, made up of chairs piled any- 
how, with draperies flung over them — and Jake 
rattled a sheet of tin behind the scenes for 
thunder, and the Dragon flashed the gas up and 
down for lightning, only Jake was always in 
a hurry to thunder too sooa, so our storm 
wasn’t conducted on strictly scientific prin- 
ciples. That was” 

“Charming, but not equal to this, though it 
isn’t a tragedy,” broke in “Foxey,” perching 
herself on top of a table beside Kate and 
twining an arm round her. “Thistles, don’t 
exult too soon! My memory reminds me how, 
in stories, something almost always happens to 
spoil a frolic. If it is a play, somebody falls 
ill, or bad news arrives, or one of the heroines 
has a sprained ankle, or some horrible con- 
tretemps is made to take place, so as to prevent 
the finale and point a moral. We don’t want to 
serve as an example. Let us rehearse and 
enjoy ourselves while we may.” 

The dreaded ordeal of the examination went 
off with success. Brownie, to her surprise, 
gained the medal for general good conduct. 


J92 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


which she feared to miss because of the affair 
at Martin’s Hill, while Kate, in what Fanny 
called her condition of rapt ecstasy, and so 
thrilled by excitement that she outshone many 
prettier girls who did not rise to the level of the 
occasion, was called up to receive the prizes for 
languages and composition on which she had 
set her heart. Fanny, as usual, came off with 
distinction; Verena had honorable mention; 
while Cornie, though never a fine scholar, won 
praises for her music. 

Miss Clive was in her glory. She swept 
about in her long, pale silk, looking, the girls 
said, like Tennyson’s Princess, enjoying the 
stir and excitement; while poor Miss Almira, 
fretted and overworked, took the lion’s share 
in all domestic arrangements, and seldom 
appeared among the pupils. The most spacious 
hall in the large building was prepared for the 
theatricals, which began early in the afternoon 
of the day after the examination closed. Jake 
and Sandy, the former grinning with innocent 
delight, the latter more than usually grim and 
looking with the eyes of a rigid Cameronian 
upon all such vanities, were busily executing 
the final orders regarding the stage, a large 
wooden platform, easily erected and taken 
down, that was kept from year to year, and 
crowding as many seats as possible into the 
space reserved for the audience, always num- 


EXPECTATION. 


193 


bering many friends and relatives of the girls, 
besides guests from the neighborhood. 

The worst of the ^ ^ Gravamena ’ ^ upon this 
otherwise happy day was that Frau Schulze, 
having privately captured Kate and Verena, 

• eloquently besought them to allow her to shorten 
their hair, which flowed down in a style 
decidedly too feminine even for young gentle- 
men of the seventeenth century. The fear of 
spoiling the etfect of their important roles over- 
came every other consideration, and the two 
heroes of the drama consented to part with half 
of their redundant locks, astonishing the This- 
tles by reappearing with hair only reaching to 
their shoulders, and having to endure sundry 
jests referring to their recent vainglorious 
boast that not even the dramatic necessity so 
dear to their hearts should induce them to part 
with more than an inch or two, to satisfy Frau 
Schulze’s mind. 

The French play went off with eclat. Julia 
Maxwell really acted with great spirit, while 
Cecilia sustained her rather languid part with 
much grace. Eanged on long benches in front 
of the audience, the German troupe, in white, 
and proudly displaying whatever medals they 
had won, surveyed the clever performance of 
the ''Nettles” with critical eyes, though, foi^ 
the sake of appearance, often joining in the 
applause. 


13 


J94 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


Kate, in the seventh heaven of anticipation, 
kept overwhelming her next neighbor with 
whispered directions regarding her grand 
entree as Marsh-King and leader of the Will- 
o ’-the- Wisps ; while Fanny and Verena ex- 
changed low comments under cover of the music 
ere the curtain rose. 

^ ^ That sweet-faced lady over yonder, in gray, 
with a boy, is Mrs. Leslie, from Quebec, Kate’s 
godmother. None of the Armstrongs are here. 
They are a remarkable family all through. The 
Professor is a man of whom even I stand in 
awe, dreadfully dry and severe, and despising 
art and poetry. Plis son, about seventeen, is 
said to be a younger edition of his papa, and 
the pretty daughter, of Kate’s age, takes after 
her worldly mamma, and looks down upon her 
shy, bookish little cousin. Kate’s uncle won’t 
allow her to make visits in the holidays, because 
he doesn’t want to ask anyone in return, though 
the Leslies, in Virginia’s time, used to swoop 
her off with a bold, military stroke (the Colonel 
is in the British army, you know), and I 
shouldn’t wonder if her godmother were con- 
triving how to spirit her away from this hot- 
bed of dramatic temptation with a coup de main 
now.” 

Verena gasped at the idea of losing Kate ; but 
now the curtain rose upon the French play, dull 
and heavy according to the standard of thQ 


EXPECTATION. 


J95 


German troupe and of the fanciful Hungarian, 
who thought their own exclusion from it a piece 
of good fortune, and felt impatient at having to 
sit through it. The Thistles, joyfully obeying 
the summons to go and dress, overheard Julia, 
entering to seat herself among the audience, 
remark that ‘‘Elsie Venner was worth looking 
at just now, for the lights, and the fuss, and 
the costumes had sent her off into a more crazy 
fit than usual.” Left-handed compliments like 
this, however (since all knew that Verena was 
looking her very best), had grown too common 
from Julia’s lips for anyone to take them very 
seriously, and only lent them a keener relish 
for the amusement about to begin. 

******** 

Herr Professor Friedrich Wilhelm Schulze’s 
short, square form, and broad, kindly face now 
appeared, just below the stage, followed by sev- 
eral hired musicians with wind instruments, the 
first sounds from which caused the spectators 
(who had availed themselves of the interval 
between the two dramas to scatter in the gar- 
den) to rally without delay until the large liall 
and a smaller room opening into it by folding 
doors were again filled to overflowing. The 
thrilling national airs soon passed into a joy- 
ous, simple melody as the curtain rose upon a 
woodland scene which it had tasked the united 


J96 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


energies of the Schulzes and the dramatic corps 
to prepare according to Kate’s directions. 

The school theatre possessed a set of canvas 
trees, but they were almost hidden by young 
firs cut from the banks bordering the high road, 
grassy sods, pine cones and soft clumps of moss 
being heaped around them. In the background, 
where a painted scene with a late-afternoon sky 
gave a glimpse into the distance, tufts of reeds, 
rushes and other aquatic plants were placed 
upright, to indicate a marsh supposed to be 
stretching across a wide opening in the German 
forest. 

In order to understand the drama, it may be 
well to give the play-bill, of which copies had 
been printed and distributed among the audi- 
ence. Kate, of course, would have liked to have 
them in German, but found even the Schulzes 
arrayed against her ; while Mrs. Hill made a sort 
of compromise by settling that the names of the 
actresses should be prefixed by ‘^Fraulein” 
instead of ‘^Miss,” as follows: 

THE CLOISTEK IN THE FOEEST. 

{Das Kloster im Walcle.) 

Eomantic Drama in Four Acts. 

PEKSONS KEPRESENTED. 

Helena, Countess Zrinyi, a Hungarian, 

Fraulein Lindsay 


EXPECTATION. 


J97 


Ladislaus, her son, ten years old, 

Franlein Forster 

Bektha, Countess von Altheim, a German, 

Fraulein Leslie 

Christine, her confidential servant, 

Franlein Preston 
Hildegarde, a young Abbess . . Fraulein Howard 

Agatha, an elderly nun FrMein Wilson 

Katharina, a young nun Fraulein Somers 

Zara, an elderly gypsy Fraulein Palmer 

Friedrich, her supposed grandson, 

Fraulein Armstrong 
Ilouschka, a Hungarian gypsy girl, 

Fraulein Fox 

Tarscha, Queen of a gj'psy tribe, 

Fraulein Bussell 

Loki, an Evil Snirit, King of the Marsh, 

Fraulein Wagner 

CHORUS. 

W ILL-0 ^-THE- W ISPS. 

Gypsy Girls and Women. 

Nuns. 

The Scene is somewhere on the Borders of Ger- 
many, towards the close of the Thirty 
Years ^ War. 

Composed by Fraulein Armstrong, 
Assisted by others, and acted by the Pupils of 
Mount Cedar Seminary, June — , 18 — . 


CHAPTER XII. 


FULFILLMENT. 

F rau SCHULZE has so repeatedly 
harangued her troupe regarding the 
duty of not wearying the audience by 
any of those ^ ‘ waits too apt to occur in 
amateur performances that the last notes of 
t]ie overture have hardly died away before the 
figures of Ladislaus and the Countess Zrinyi, 
in their rich Hungarian dresses, are seen 
advancing from behind the trees. Led by her 
son, the exhausted lady reaches the center of 
the stage and seats herself upon the needles 
of the pines, her graceful boy bending over her, 
in his scarlet tunic braided with gold, short 
cloak cast over one shoulder, full, sombie-hued 
trousers over long red stockings, and boots 
edged with fur, while the bright plumes and 
jeweled aigrette of the cap he holds shine out 
against the dusky evergreens. 

The dialogue, mournful on the part of Helena 
and spirited on that of Ladislaus, tells us how 
they have left their castle in Hungary to be near 
Count Zrinyi, who serves in the Imperialist 
army, and has recently been wounded. Recov- 

198 


FULHLLMENT. 


J99 


ering in a town taken from the enemy, and 
again surprised, he has rushed into battle, at 
the head of his men, and fallen. Accompanied 
only by her little son (for the two faithful fol- 
lowers who had started with them have been 
slain by chance shots on the way), the Countess 
now is seeking to gain the headquarters of her 
brother, beyond the gloomy forest, and, worn 
out by grief and wandering, believes herself 
about to die. 

Ladislaus tried to cheer her, but in vain. Her 
words of parting counsel (ruthlessly abridged 
by Frau Schulze) are accompanied by a few low 
bars of music, as she takes from her bosom a 
certain keepsake, a jewel given her by the 
Count in happier days, and places it round the 
neck of her boy with a solemnity causing the 
bevy of actresses waiting behind the scenes to 
banter Kate unmercifully about the manner in 
which Mrs. Hill had restored to her the lost 
locket a few weeks ago. 

The Countess, rising as she unclasps the 
jewel, remains standing with uplifted hand, her 
son kneeling upon one knee before her, his face 
towards the left of the stage, from which the 
fair-haired peasant child Friedrich now enters, 
a long staff in his hand, at first reluctant to 
intrude upon what seems to him more like some 
scene between fairy creatures, such as haunt 
this forest, than the farewell of a mother and 
her son. 


200 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


The fir trees rustle as he steps forward, caus- 
ing Helena to start and Ladislaus to spring to 
his feet, bidding the humble stranger to remain 
and asking his name. Friedrich, leaning on 
his staff, while Ladislaus, sheathing the jew- 
eled dagger he has brandished, seats himself 
beside his mother, tells them his simple history. 
He is the orphaned grandchild of Zara, a Hun- 
garian gypsy, who, having left her tribe and 
married a German peasant, now dwells, poor, 
widowed, and, but for himself, alone, in a hut 
deep in the heart of the forest. She is a 
skilful leech, knowing the virtues of all herbs, 
and earning her scanty living by the sale of 
these; hut the peasantry, whom she avoids, 
deem her a sorceress, and shun her. Fried- 
rich, too, has been often roughly handled by the 
village lads, who say he has been bewitched 
by Zara’s arts. He has haunting dreams of 
a fair, bright-haired lady, in a castle, who 
caressed him, and of a noble gentleman, and 
of how he sailed with them, at sunset, down 
a gleaming river in a tiny boat. He saw the 
sky grow dark — and then the boat went under 
in a sudden storm, and he knew nothing more 
until he woke in the deep solemn wood, where 
the moonlight shone coldly through the fir tops 
upon the dusky face of his grandmother as she 
rocked him in her arms ; while from beyond the 
pines, rustling softly in the night wind, 
resounded the gysies’ wild, barbaric song. 


FULHLLMENT. 


20J 


The Countess interrupts him to ask whether 
there are gypsies in the forest, beseeching him 
to tell her of some place of shelter. He says 
that his grandmother’s cottage is but that of 
^ ^ypsy, of one so wild and strange that he 
has never been able to return her love, for her 
sad dark eyes inspire him with terror. The 
village, too, lies far away, and farther yet the 
home of his friend, the good pastor, who had 
taught him to read and write. (Sundry This- 
tles are whispering that no Armstrong could 
possibly have stooped to depict even a peasant 
boy ignorant of ^^The Three R’s”). One safe 
and holy refuge he can tell of. It is an ancient 
cloister, deeply hidden among the clustering 
pines. 

Ladislaus entreats him to guide them thither ; 
but Friedrich says that he does not even know 
the way. Long ago his grandmother had led 
him past its old gray walls at evening. He 
saw the sunset gilding the cross upon the chapel, 
and heard the nuns ’ sweet voices in their vesper 
hymn. Gladly would he have lingered, but 
Zara drew him onward, her dark brows knit 
together as if in pain. He never found that 
quiet sanctuary again. But he knows that 
Oscar, a shepherd boy now with his flock upon a 
meadow near the wood, may be able to tell him 
the way. He will seek him and return. Helena 
thanks him in delight, and her son promises 


202 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


Friedrich that, if he finds them the wished-for 
shelter, he shall be taken, as his own page, to 
their Hungarian home. But the German boy 
is already out of sight behind the firs, sing- 
ing snatches of song about his passionate love 
for the beautiful forest. 

Helena thinks anxiously about the gypsies, 
regarding whom Friedrich has given them 
some useful hints in case of an encounter, and 
Ladislaus, eager to sustain her courage, sings 
her a wild, stirring battle-song (it was one of 
Petofi’s, which Verena sang in the original 
Magyar, to an admiring but uncomprehending 
audience, who fully believed it to be German, 
and a genuine part of the play, until enlight- 
ened by some of the troupe, who had slipped 
in for a glimpse of the stage before it should 
be their own turn to appear thereon). Just 
as the rich notes_ of the young Count’s voice 
die away, a wild, sad, confused murmur, as 
though from angry elfin creatures, is heard from 
the depths of the wood. Helena starts up in 
terror, which her son vainly tries to soothe. 
She will not await Friedrich’s coming, for 
again, still louder, the unearthly sounds arise 
from beyond the trees on either side. Seizing 
her boy’s hand, she hurries him away despite 
his protests, while the jewel she has hung round 
his neck falls off, unseen by both, and lies at 
the edge of the morass, the bright gems on 


FULFILLMENT, 


203 


Verena’s Hungarian locket sparkling in the 
light. (It was here that Kate had originally 
introduced the kobolds, who were to hint at 
marvelous things connected with the lost treas- 
ure, to sing and dance.) A sad, wild, confused 
melody tills up the brief but necessary pause, 
and the stage is darkened to denote the ap- 
proach of evening. 

Friedrich returns, breathless and smiling, but 
stops short at finding his new friends already 
vanished. Was it, then, all a dream, he asks 
himself, like those visions of the lovely lady 
and the boat? No — yonder, near the marsh, 
he tracks their footsteps, and, lo! the jewel he 
has seen shining upon the young Hungarian’s 
breast is lying on the earth. Friedrich takes 
it up and vows that, come what may, he will 
find him and restore this precious keepsake. 
(Innumerable witticisms, meanwhile, are ex- 
changed behind the scenes about Kate’s locket 
and old Jake.) But night is coming, and a 
distant evening bell rings, deep and full-toned, 
through the forest. Its echoes die away into 
the twilight air, and a low, sad*music sounds. 

Suddenly a faint twinkling light is seen 
behind the foliage on the edge of the morass, 
and the music, never wholly silent throughout 
this scene, grows louder, quicker; then leaps 
up, harsh and wild. 

Friedrich, clasping the young Magyar’s jewel 


204 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


to his breast, stands in the center of the dark- 
ened stage as a goblin troop of the Will-o’-the- 
Wisps slowly and silently enter ont of the 
marsh, their home. 

All the youngest girls are dressed alike, in 
dark-hrown tunics, hardly reaching to the knee, 
their long red stockings worn outside of the 
felt shoes, which render their footfalls noise- 
less. A brown mantle hangs down behind, its 
upper part drawn over the head like a cowl 
or the quaint caps worn by kobolds, save 
that its peaked end is stiffly lined and stands 
upright, adorned by a large tinsel star that 
glitters as its wearer moves. 

The ‘ ‘ Irrlichter, ’ ’ as Frau Schulze calls 
them, carry wands decked with bright marsh 
plants, a long, brown, velvety ^ ‘ cat-tail, ’ ^ from 
a bunch which Kate had kept since the pre- 
ceding autumn, forming the top thereof. 

Softly stealing from behind the trees, these 
dusky forms file in and range themselves, their 
leader (Brownie, in high glee) waving his wand 
towards the marsh, and crying, in chorus with 
the rest, ^^The King!’^ 

The music, which had again grown low and 
plaintive, resumes its wild gayety as a small, 
fairylike figure emerges from the background, 
and, swiftly marching through the goblin ranks, 
pauses at Friedrich’s side. 

It is Loki, the Marsh King, in a short tunic 


FULFILLMENT. 


205 


bordered with gay leaves and water lilies, with 
a merry countenance, and wildly streaming 
auburn locks crowned with bright purple flags 
and other marsh flowers. He bears a scepter 
adorned with the same, surmounted by great 
scarlet blossoms, slowly raising it towards the 
wondering mortal child as he demands what he 
is doing in these haunts of the Marsh Spirits 
after the tolling of the evening bell, which is 
their welcome signal for quitting the morass 
wherein they are fast bound through the day- 
light hours, and joining the merry gnomes, and 
elves, and kobolds in their dances in the forest. 

Friedrich, uplifting the young Magyar’s 
jewel, declares that he must hasten in search 
of the fugitives; while the Marsh King, echoed 
by his troop of Will-o’-the-Wisps, mocks at his 
errand, and threatens him with being forced 
to remain and partake of their revels. The 
^Mrrlichter” form into a circle, capering round 
them in a lively dance greatly enjoyed by the 
performers, and presently joined in by the 
King, with Friedrich, his unwilling guest, who, 
however, makes the best of it by footing it away 
as blithely as the rest. The dance is followed 
by much marching and countermarching, which, 
greatly applauded, only ends when Friedrich 
tries to depart, when the whole crew encircle 
him, and he stands a prisoner, but resolute, in 
the center of the mocking ^ Mrrlichter, ” while 


206 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


Loki, in liis longest speech, is so near to forget- 
ting an important line, and causing what in 
theatrical circles is called a ‘‘gag’’ by his hesi- 
tation, that Friedrich, calmly awaiting his des- 
tiny, feels inclined to quake in earnest. 

The background has grown dark; the foot- 
lights burn feebly, and a faint light falls 
obliquely upon the dim forms as they flit to and 
fro. The Will-o’-the-Wisps, as Loki waves his 
scepter, withdraw to either side, those nearest 
to the audience sinking upon one knee, wildly 
gesticulating, all pointing with their wands into 
the dark distance, and uniting in a loud, derisive 
chorus. Again Loki waves his scepter, bidding 
Friedrich look upon a vision blazing into light 
beyond the dark background. 

Far away, above the low tops of the young 
firs, behind a transparency, appear the forms 
of Ladislaus and his mother, alone on a deso- 
late waste, gazing out into the night. Fried- 
rich’s loud cry is heard above the wild chorus 
of the spirits as he vainly tries to spring for- 
ward, encircled by the goblins, whose wands 
impede his progress; while, at another signal 
from Loki, the vision changes, and the half- 
fainting Helena and her still undaunted son 
are surrounded by a throng of gypsy women, 
in strange attire, lit up by a crimson glow. 

Kate, at this juncture, would have liked to 
introduce a whole troop of woodland elves, 


FULFILLMENT* 


207 


fairies and good-natured kobolds, who, after 
parleying with the ‘ ‘ Irrlichter, ’ ’ and joining in 
the ballet, should finally rescue Friedrich from 
their hands by force, or, at least, allow the 
curtain to fall upon a stage crammed full of 
her uncanny friends, whirling and leaping 
hither and thither, singing, shouting and leav- 
ing the spectators in a thrilling confusion as 
to the result. This being clearly beyond the 
possibilities of her troupe, she was forced to 
content herself with allowing the visions to 
vanish in the darkness, while the ‘ ‘ Irrlichter ’ ^ 
and their monarch again encircle the boy, 
mocking and tormenting him in a style exceed- 
ingly congenial to these young performers, who 
do not fail to carry out her directions to make 
matters lively by hazing Friedrich as much as 
possible. The Marsh King seizes him, drag- 
ging him towards the morass, and wildly sing- 
ing, as, amid a strain of martial music, the 
curtain falls upon the first act of Kate’s fan- 
tasia; while the audience, who, fortunately, do 
not as yet appear at all bored, and are certainly 
aware that they must resign themselves to see- 
ing a good deal of nonsense, are sufficiently 
mindful of the pains taken by the Thistles and 
their friends to refresh the anxious spirits of 
the actresses by most kindly and welcome 
applause. 


208 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR^ 


ACT SECOND. 

Brilliantly lighted, and with several torches 
carefully placed among the dark branches of 
the firs, the stage now displays the gypsy 
encampment, whither, as indicated by the 
vision, the unfortunate Hungarians have wan- 
dered. The choice novelty of the scene consists 
in a bright crescent moon shining up above the 
tree-tops in the background, over the group of 
elderly gypsy women gathered round the tra- 
ditional kettle hanging from three sticks. To 
the right sits old Tarscha, the queen, arrayed 
in brilliant colors, a scarlet kerchief tied over 
her gray locks, as, with a long hazel wand like 
a divining rod in her hand, she keeps a sly 
watch over the despondent Helena, sitting oppo- 
site, Ladislaus, fresh and undaunted, at her 
side. 

The foreground, as the curtain rises to merry 
music, is filled by a crowd of maidens in gay 
attire, foremost of whom is Ilouschka (Fanny), 
now keeping her birthday festival, with rows 
of gold sequins glittering in her soft, dark hair, 
scarlet beads twined round her throat, chains 
and bracelets shining in the footlights, a tam- 
bourine uplifted in her hand. 

Singing a brief, gay chorus, she leads the 
others in a dance. The spectators, who find 
this dancing more to their taste than Kate’s 





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FULHLLMENT. 


209 


cherished Will-o ’-the-Wisps, or the affairs of 
the unfortunate Magyars, loudly applaud, 
demanding a repetition, which the maidens 
gladly give, but soon withdraw to either side. 
Behind the girlish forms we see the sinister- 
looking older women, coming and going at old 
Tarscha’s bidding, clustering and whispering 
together. The red light from beneath the caul- 
dron shines on Helena’s pale face and the young 
Count’s graceful figure as he bends over her. 

Ilouschka, small, slight and brilliant with 
girlish beauty, remains alone in the foreground. 
Gay though she seems, she is weary of her rude, 
evil companions, longing to escape from them 
and to aid the Hungarians, helpless in their 
midst. But her birthday must not end so soon. 
Striking her tambourine, she breaks off her 
soliloquy and dances alone, soon interrupted by 
a loud, glad cry of ^^Eljen, Ilouschka, Eljen!’^ 
from the background. 

Glancing round, she asks coquettishly who 
has uttered the Hungarian shout of applause. 
The little Count springs forward, answering 
that it is he, the young guest from the Magyar 
land. Affecting a gay demeanor, she jests with 
the boy about Hungary, her birthplace, and that 
of her betrothed, an Austrian soldier, concern- 
ing whom she has invented much innocent ban- 
ter which would never have entered the head 
of Kate. Ladislaus is invited by her to dance 


2J0 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


the Csardds, but at first refuses, for a heavy 
grief is weighing on his heart. His mother, 
recalling Friedrich’s warning that, if thrown 
among the gypsies, Ilouschka is the only 
one in whom they may trust, gives him a 
hint to consent. Helena and the women look 
on with eagerness. The orchestra strikes up 
the Csardds, accompanied by the cymbals and 
tambourines of some of the girls seated on 
either side. Ladislaus throws off his short, 
furred Hungarian cloak, dotfs his small, scar- 
let-trimmed cap, with its long plume fastened 
by a gleaming aigrette, and lays them beside 
the Countess, returning, his bright costume and 
many ornaments twinkling in the lights, to 
where Ilouschka, her tambourine put aside, 
awaits him, a coquettish smile upon her lips. 

Verena, whose spirited acting from the 
moment she had appeared to speak the opening 
lines had far exceeded even the expectations 
of her companions, had taught her national 
dance to Fanny, whose instinctive aptitude for 
seizing upon its main characteristics quite out- 
shone the utmost she had been able to get out 
of Kate. This very one-sided dramatist, aware 
of her own deficiencies, yet much grieved at 
being forced to yield so manv points, found 
that this scene must be entirely given over to 
the skilful hands of these two performers, who 
intersperse their graceful dancing with many 


FULFILLMENT. 


2U 


sly strokes of humor, as now one and now 
another exchanges the role of the eager lover 
for that of the dallying, uncertain swain, 
delighting in alternate ardor and laughing 
mockery. 

Leaning against the side scenes, her arm 
round the waist of her friend, the Marsh King, 
Kate watches the Csardas with a certain irre- 
pressible sadness, arousing the mirth of ^‘LokL’ 
and the ‘ ‘ Irrlichter, ” quite unconscious of the 
passionate longing she feels to possess a share 
of Fanny’s and Verena’s charm and liveliness. 
How bright and beautiful Verena looks as she 
begins the dance, her black hair, parted at one 
side and curling on her forehead, fluttering 
back from her smiling face, so flushed with 
excitement that she did not need any rouge, her 
brilliant dress and sparkling ornaments shim- 
mering among the evergreens, every limb per- 
fect in its lithe, joyous motion, speeding mer- 
rily, with beaming eyes and outspread, quiver- 
ing hands after Fanny, who laughs, shakes her 
long dark hair till all the golden bangles flash 
and glitter, folds her arms, roguishly glances 
backwards and hurries away to the opposite 
side. Kate feels that she herself, the originator 
of the whole affair, without whom these clever 
improvers upon her own ideas would probably 
never have dreamed of getting up a new play at 
all, is quite a subordinate personage compared 


2J2 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


with these two sparkling beauties, radiant with 
buoyant mirth and varying expression, at every 
turn of their untiring performance attracting 
fresh plaudits from their enthusiastic audience. 
Friedrich, the peasant boy, has had nothing to 
complain of ; but he is unimportant by the side 
of Ladislaus and Ilouschka; and Kate feels a 
momentary sadness, even in the midst of what 
seems her childish triumph. 

The light-footed gypsy girl prolongs the 
dance, gliding away from the outstretched 
hands of the little Count, who, on his part, 
assumes a demeanor of indifference, figuring 
for a moment with one of the other maidens, 
and returning to his pursuit only to find him- 
self baffled anew. Ladislaus, redoubling his 
ardor, seizes one hand of Ilouschka, but finds 
it snatched away; then, after following her yet 
once more round the stage, impedes her rapid 
course by suddenly dropping on one knee in her 
pathway, his winning smile — Kate marvels that 
Verena’s sad gray eyes can wear that look of 
brightness — and outspread hands telling his 
tale, this time with success, for the gypsy, 
swiftly- raising him, whirls round and round 
in the final figure of the dance ; while the 
maidens, wildly clashing their cymbals and 
beating their tambourines, swell the rising 
tumult of applause. 

The Csardds, repeated in obedience to the 


FULFILLMENT. 


2J3 


loud encores, is scarcely ended before Ladis- 
laus, hitherto radiant, stops short, distressed 
and anxious, his hand swiftly sweeping across 
his breast, from which he now, for the first 
time, discovers his jewel to have fallen. In a 
moment the gay scene is changed to one of hurry 
and confusion. Instead of the gladness, the 

^^Nods, and becks, and wreath^ smiles,’^ 
which accompanied the dance, a dark sadness 
steals over his face. His mother and the gyp- 
sies crowd round him, vainly seeking on the 
earth for the missing treasure. 

Tarscha, advancing, commands silence, show- 
ing him her wand of hazel, saying that it is a 
divining-rod, and placing it in his hands that 
he may seek for his lost jewel. Playfully 
brandishing it, he affects to think it able to 
detect the spot in human hearts where he may 
find hidden treasures, inclining it towards 
Ilouschka, who, afraid of rousing the sus- 
picions of the aged queen by his banter, answers 
merrily in the same strain. The audience, 
unable, perhaps, to follow the dialogue very 
clearly, but charmed with the incessant 
liveliness and animation of Ladislaus and 
Ilouschka, are sorry when, at Tarscha ^s bid- 
ding, the gypsies, drawing back from the left 
side of the stage, disclose a small tent-like 
shelter among the firs, in which the Countess 
and her child seek refuge. The women extin- 


2t4 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


guisli the torches and file ont, followed by the 
girls and Ilouschka, till the darkened stage 
remains deserted save by two or three crouched 
as if sleeping round the fire, and by Tarscha, 
who, in a brief soliloquy, expresses her malig- 
nant joy at having these rich strangers fall into 
her hands, declaring that, as soon as the men 
of the tribe shall return, she will despatch a 
messenger to demand a fitting ransom. 

The ^ ‘ stage-moon, ’ ^ by means of a simple 
mechanical contrivance which is the pride of 
Herr Schulze, now is made to sink slowly 
behind the dark tree tops. A brief pause is 
filled by low music from wind instruments, 
sounding plaintively, as if far away. 

Suddenly a voice is heard calling ‘‘Fried- 
rich!^’ thrice repeated, as a tall, stately figure 
emerges from behind the firs, in sombre gar- 
ments, a crimson mantle flung over her gray 
hair, marching past the astonished Tarscha, who 
starts forward, following her to the footlights, 
demanding ironically wherefore Zara, who has 
dong since left her tribe and despises them as 
outcasts, is seen at midnight in their haunts 
in the forest. 

Zara, fiercely turning and again calling 
“Friedrich,” replies that she cares nothing for 
the gypsies, but wanders seeking for her grand- 
son, who has not returned to her hut that even- 
ing; while Tarscha mockingly tells her that she. 


FULFILLMENT. 


215 


called a sorceress, should seek him by means 
of her own magic arts. Zara, whose dark-eyed, 
stately beauty lends a touch of tragic pathos 
to the little play which she well knows how to 
sustain by her heartfelt, spirited acting, holds 
a brief dialogue with the gypsy queen, display- 
ing the contrast between her own passionate 
love for her grandchild and Tarscha’s low, mer- 
cenary cunning, as, drawing back the tattered 
curtain from the little tent, she bids Zara look 
upon these fair guests lately come into her 
power. 

The faint light reveals the Countess Zrinyi 
asleep in a half-sitting posture, her pale, delicate 
profile relieved against some crimson drapery, 
one arm thrown over the shoulders of her child, 
who lies upon the ground, his head, with its 
dark, sweeping hair, resting upon her knees. 
Zara’s burst of wrath has given place to sad- 
ness, and she uplifts her hands in an agony of 
useless protest, derided by Tarscha, who, leav- 
ing the curtain of the tent drawn back, returns 
with Zara, whose head is bowed and her arms 
drooping, to the foreground. 

^‘Thou callest me a robber,” says the Queen, 
with scowling brows. ‘^Art not thou, too, a 
robber? Do not we all know that the fair- 
haired Friedrich is not thy grandson, but the 
heir of a German nobleman, whom thou, these 
seven years, having saved him from drowning 


2J6 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

in the river into which he had fallen from his 
father’s boat, hast kept in the forest for thine 
own? Art not thon, too, a robber? Speak!” 

Zara, overcome by remorse, admits that it is 
true, but adds that it was no mean thirst of 
gain, only her own utter desolation, which 
tempted her to keep the three-years’ boy when 
she found that his parents believed him to have 
perished. During this dialogue, fiercely malig- 
nant on Tarscha’s part, tragically earnest 
and full of a quiet power on Zara’s — Ladislaus, 
in obedience to that convenient dramatic neces- 
sity causing actors to awake at the right 
moment, opens his eyes, sits up, eagerly listen- 
ing, unseen by the gypsies, and, having learned 
all, save the name of Friedrich’s parents, which 
is not mentioned, lies down and appears to be 
asleep. 

Zara, wounded by Tarscha’s taunts, and still 
more by the sight of the sleeping fugitives, for 
whom she intercedes in vain, turns to depart; 
but the queen, detaining her, waves her hazel 
wand, bidding her look up. 

The dark background opens to solemn music. 
High up, above the fir trees, appears a vision 
of Friedrich lying asleep in the peaceful forest. 
His soft, light curls droop over the right arm, 
outstretched beneath his head, his left hand 
clasps the Magyar’s jewel to his heart. Round 
the low grassy bank where he lies stand Loki 


FULFILLMENT, 


217 


and the ^^Irrlicliter/’ hugely enjoying their 
final appearance in this easy and romantic 
picture, which does not vanish, but remains 
unchanging, lit up by a clear, solemn light from 
the torches formerly serving to illuminate the 
gypsy camp, and now held by the motionless 
goblins, their dark attire showing in effective 
contrast with the gay dress of the Marsh King 
and the bright costume and blonde coloring of 
Friedrich, as he lies slumbering, in the highest 
heaven of dramatic ecstasy, reflecting that even 
lying dead upon the stage in the last scene of 
one of Madame ^s tragedies is less deliciously 
exciting than this. 

The music continues like a dirge, with sudden 
wails of sound from the wind instruments, 
causing Kate’s heart to beat fast and a few tears 
to well from beneath her closed eyelids. Ladis- 
laus and his mother lie asleep, sorely regretting 
that it is not allowable to sit up and look at 
the vision, as, by the way, they had persisted 
in doing at rehearsals, to Frau Schulze ’s wrath. 
Tarscha remains in the center of the stage, 
pointing towards Friedrich, at whom Zara 
gazes in mute anguish, spreading out her arms 
and slowly sinking on her knees, with drooping 
head. 

The wailing music grows louder and more 
wildly sad, blending with the strains of an 
organ and a chorus from behind the scenes, as 


2J8 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


thougli from unseen spirits, thrilling Fried- 
riches overstrung nerves until he feels hardly 
able to refrain from sobbing, bnt happily 
remains motionless, amid eager clapping from 
the s^nnpathetic audience, some of whom are 
almost crying at the etfective transition from 
the preceding scenes of gayety ; while poor Miss 
Almira, who has stolen into a back seat, sits 
weeping violently, she hardly could tell why, 
until the curtain falls. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


THE CLOISTER IN THE FOREST. 

HE wind instruments in the orchestra are 



silent, and only organ music from 


^ behind the scenes is heard as the curtain 
rises upon a quiet convent garden. The fir 
trees are still ranged at the back and sides of 
the stage and in front of a wall with an anti- 
quated and practicable^^ gate facing the audi- 
ence. To the right is a stone seat; to the left 
we see a door leading into the chapel, with an 
image of the Madonna and Child in a niche, 
near the foreground. 

Above the wall shines the invaluable ^‘stage- 
moon,’^ doing duty for what is supposed to bo 
the evening of the day following the various 
adventures in the forest, whose pine-tops are 
visible beyond the enclosure. (Herr Schulze, 
by the way, has contrived that the said moon 
shall show a slightly larger crescent than she 
did for the scene among the gypsies.) The 
music grows louder as a file of black-robed nuns 
quit the chapel and pass across the stage, the 
last one, Katharina, being met by old Agatha, 
the portress, sharply demanding where the 


219 


220 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


Abbess Hildegarde lingers, now that the ves- 
pers are over. 

She answers that Mother Hildegarde still tar- 
ries in the chapel with their new guest, the 
Countess von Altheim, a Protestant lady, 
hastening to join her wounded husband, and 
who has sought shelter in the convent for the 
night, while her men-servants betake themselves 
to the village, awaiting the armed escort that 
shall meet her and escort her to the headquar- 
ters of the Count. Old Agatha (well-played by 
a plain, but clever and humorous elder girl) 
supplies the much-needed comic element to 
these cloistered scenes, inaccessible to Kate’s 
goblin friends (who, in their stage dresses, are 
proudly seated on what they call the actors’ 
bench,” in front of the spectators, enjoying 
the remainder of the play), by displaying much 
bigoted horror at a heretic having gained a 
refuge there ; while . Katharina upholds the 
action of their young and gentle Abbess, in 
whose mournful eyes Agatha thinks she reads 
vain longings for the world she has early been 
forced to resign. But the chapel door opens, 
and Agatha, seizing and shaking her long 
rosary until all its brown beads rattle, angrily 
exclaims that she will not face that heretic, and, 
followed by Katharina wistfully glancing back- 
wards, hurries away. 

The Abbess Hildegarde (Grace Howard, 


THE CLOISTER IN THE FOREST* 22J 

whose dark eyes and regular features enable 
her to look handsome in spite of her plain 
black robe, black veil and white guimpe beneath 
her chin and round her brows) slowly advances, 
followed by Bertha von Altheim (Agnes Leslie), 
pausing in the center of the stage, in most 
effective contrast. The worldly regrets re- 
buked by old Agatha form the substance of 
Hildegarde’s speeches, involuntarily comparing 
her own sad, monotonous destiny with that of 
the lovely woman at her side. The role of the 
Abbess, in truth, owes its interest and its fre- 
quent touches of pathos to the skilful interpola- 
tions of Frau Schulze, whose German soul 
teems with romance, and to the expressive act- 
ing of Grace, whose artistic intuition of the 
capabilities of her part surprises and charms 
the indulgent audience. The latter, however, 
are not suffered to grow weary over scenes of 
sentiment, for the brief dialogue is interrupted 
by a timid knock at the gate, which, opened by 
Agatha in answer to the feeble and repeated 
summons as the sisters flock upon the stage, 
discloses, against the dim night sky of the back- 
ground, the forms of Ladislaus and his mother, 
Ilouschka at their side. She has helped them to 
escape from the gypsy camp, and, after wan- 
dering all day in the forest, has guided them 
hither to ask for shelter. 

The stately Abbess bids them welcome. 


222 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


Agatha, brandishing the huge key with which 
she has unlocked and relocked the gate, angrily 
mutters about the fearful breach of discipline 
committed by allowing a boy and a wild gypsy 
maid to enter the sacred precincts, so diverting 
the spectators by her talk and pantomime that 
they scarcely heed the exit of the Abbess and 
her guests, followed by Agatha and the nuns, 
as they leave to the right, in the direction of the 
convent, supposed to lie just beyond the garden 
behind the firs. 

A noise of shouts and footsteps breaks in 
upon the low music. The red light of several 
torches flashes from behind the wall, a cry is 
heard, and the form of Friedrich is seen upon 
the top of the wall, whence he drops into the 
enclosure. The torchlight wavers among the 
dark foliage and vanishes; the clamor dies 
away, and the boy, who has crouched, exliausted, 
upon the ground, rises and staggers forward. 

His face is pale; but the young Magyar’s 
jewel sparkles in those small, trembling hands. 
A few hurried words of soliloquy explain how 
he has wearily sought the convent in search of 
Ladislaus, and, near the gate, was met by the 
gypsy men, returning to their encampment, who 
tried to capture him. Faint and bleeding from 
the stones they have thrown after him, he 
stands alone in the center of the stage, listen- 
ing to the deep tones of the organ in the chapel ; 


THE CLOISTER IN THE FOREST. 


223 


then, staggering a few paces forward, sinks in 
a swoon near the chapel door, half-hidden by 
the firs. 

The sounds of the organ die away ; the hoy 
lies motionless, unseen by Ladislaus and 
Ilouschka, who enter from the right. The 
gypsy girl comes first, with restless glance and 
eager tread. Already her wild heart is pining 
for the freedom of the forest. She abhors the 
black-veiled nuns, especially old Agatha, who 
treats her as no better than the thieving vaga- 
bonds from whom she has fled. The little 
Count tries playfully to console her, promising 
that she shall accompany them to their Hun- 
garian home, and be cared for until she shall 
marry her soldier lover. 

Kate, lying in the long stage swoon she had 
determined to accomplish, as her friends said, 
to make up for never having fainted in real life, 
finds that her two fellow-actresses, as might be 
expected, are unmercifully regardless of her 
graceful but rather uncomfortable attitude 
upon the hard boards, and give themselves 
abundant time to indulge in banter before find- 
ing her out. She is just wondering whether 
it might not be advisable to ‘^come to^’ unas- 
sisted, and cut their parley short, when Ladis- 
laus, seeing Agatha enter, rushes up to the 
sour-visaged old nun, flings his audacious arms 
round her shrinking waist, and merrily invites 


224 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


her to dance a Csardds with him on the spot. 
The aged portress utters a shrill squeal of 
horror, vainly trying to escape from the grasp 
of the little Count, who drags the poor old nun 
round and round, in mock heroic imitation of 
the conclusion of the dance, Ilouschka looking 
on and laughing, while the audience, heartily 
amused, laugh in reply. 

Agatha, squealing louder, and wringing her 
hands, is several times whirled round the stage, 
upbraiding Ladislaus, and whacking her beads 
in his face, followed by the dancing gypsy maid, 
who aggravates the situation by all manner of 
unfeeling fun. The spectators applaud anew, 
tempting the actresses to prolong Agatha’s 
misery until, shaking herself free at last, she 
hurries otf to lay the case before the Abbess, 
while the audacious Magyar imprints a kiss on 
her cheek ere she departs. 

Ilouschka and Ladislaus, catching sight of 
Friedrich, become serious, kneeling by him, 
seeking to restore him, and beholding with joy 
and wonder the lost jewel in his hand. Slowly 
the fainting boy revives as Hildegarde enters 
with several nuns. It is not childish and 
unseemly mirth that she now sees, but Fried- 
rich, lying on the earth, supported by Ilouschka, 
while Ladislaus, springing forward, with flash- 
ing eyes, implores the Abbess to remain and 
listen; and Friedrich, encircled by the nuns, is 
helped towards the convent. 


THE CLOISTER IN THE FOREST. 225 

Ladislaus eagerly, the forest maiden timidly, 
cling to Hildegarde’s hands, and surprise her 
with the news that this poor stranger is not the 
peasant child he seems. Less sanguine than 
they, she half doubts the fact, in the absence of 
all names whereby to trace the boy^s parentage, 
but bids Ladislaus follow her to hold counsel 
with his mother. Ilouschka implores the Mother 
Superior to permit her to pass the short summer 
night sleeping in the garden, for she cannot 
breathe between those high convent walls. 
Hildegarde, somewhat sadly, grants the one 
precious boon of freedom which the long 
imprisoned Abbess may bestow, and goes out, 
followed by Ladislaus, eagerly scanning her 
melancholy face. 

Ilouschka, alone on the stage, abuses her 
opportunities by playfully skipping round the 
garden, singing a German poem she had had to 
recite in class (unaccompanied by the musi- 
cians, who, with Herr Schulze, look on amazed 
at this unexpected interlude, while the audience, 
who decidedly prefer the comic and spectacular 
to the emotional, applaud with zest), then flings 
her slight, graceful form down among the fir 
trees near the chapel, while the musicians, 
relieved (like poor, quivering Kate behind the 
scenes) to find the fair gypsy’s vagaries at an 
end, strike up some wild, melancholy Hun- 
garian strain during the brief pause which 
follows. 


15 


226 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


The night grows darker as the stage-moon^’ 
sets behind the garden wall ; the silent enclosure 
is all faint and shadowy, save for the one bright 
gleam of scarlet from the gypsy’s figure 
reclining yonder. Ilouschka suddenly starts up 
at the sound of a low, wailing cry. 

She recognizes the voice of Zara, who again 
wanders, seeking Friedrich. The gypsies, meet- 
ing her, have told her how he has sought shelter 
in the cloister ; and she now stands knocking at 
the gate. 

Agatha hurries into the garden, grumbling 
at Ilouschka, whom she accuses of being in 
league with gypsy robbers, and refuses to 
unlock the door. The maiden, roguishly asking 
whether she would like to dance another 
Csardds, snatches the huge key from the leath- 
ern girdle of the angry portress, and herself 
admits Zara, who marches past the laughing 
girl and the terrified nun, until she pauses in 
the center of the stage. Her bold demand that 
her grandson shall be restored to her is met 
by Ilouschka declaring, with equal boldness, 
that she knows how vain a claim upon the child 
is hers, and, flinging her strong young arms 
round the wild gypsy to detain her, she adjures 
Agatha to fasten the gate and summon the 
Abbess at once. 

Agatha grumblingly complies, and hastens 
away. Zara stands vainly struggling with 


THE CLOISTER IN THE FOREST. 


227 


Ilouschka, and suddenly drawing a long knife 
from beneath her garments, brandishes it above 
the girl’s head. The bright blade flashes in 
the light of the torches carried by the eight 
nnns who enter from the right and range them- 
selves in a row across the background. 

Other dark-robed figures noiselessly follow, 
filing off on either side, till their unfolding 
ranks disclose the pale and stately Abbess, who, 
slowly advancing towards the center of the 
stage, remains standing motionless in the 
torchlight that shimmers upon the large silver 
cross, her badge of office, hanging by a broad 
white ribbon on her breast. Zara’s uplifted 
hand sinks down ; the glittering knife falls with 
a clang upon the ground. 

Calmly the young Abbess tells the angry 
gypsy that they all know how Friedrich, now 
sleeping peacefully within the cloister, is not 
hers; and that her only way of escaping the 
penalty due to her crime is to utter a full con- 
fession of the whole. 

Zara raises her fierce gray head and asks 
whether Hildegarde takes her to be a common 
thief, like Tarscha’s band in the forest. It was 
no mean thirst for gain, but love for the fair, 
unconscious child, whom she had saved from 
drowning at the risk of her own life, that 
tempted the bereaved old woman into keeping 
him. Seizing the hand of the Abbess, she 


228 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


draws lier farther forwards, gazing with her 
deep, searching eyes — the eyes of a gypsy 
seeress — into Hildegarde’s melancholy face. 
^^Thon, desolate one in the cloister, canst thon 
not pity the desolate! Wonld’st thou seek to 
hide thy soul from the glance of the gypsy, who 
reads in thine eyes how wildly the woman ^s 
heart still throbs beneath the black convent 
garb! Grant me one moment’s rich compas- 
sion, as from woman to woman — and let the 
Abbess judge me as she will.” 

And she wildly utters a confession, ending 
with the name of the boy’s parents — Von Alt- 
helm — broken by a cry of joy from Hildegarde, 
as she exclaims, in tumultuous thanksgiving, 
that the boy’s mother is even now within the 
cloister. 

The gypsy runs her piercing eyes across the 
rows of dark-veiled figures, mute and motion- 
less in the torchlight, and asks whether the 
mother of Friedrich be among them, driven by 
grief into this living tomb. 

The nuns are silent. Zara cries out that the 
mother cannot be there, for, even were she 
taking the solemn vows before the altar, such 
tidings would make her cast her veil aside and 
hasten forth in ecstasy. Hildegarde interrupts 
her. It is no cloistered and imprisoned nun, 
but the beautiful German stranger to whom 
these tidings shall be brought — brought by the 


THE CLOISTER IN THE FOREST. 229 

lips of the young Abbess, whose acting, like 
that of the gypsy at this crisis, soars into a 
region of genuine human feeling into which the 
audience, largely composed of mothers, are 
fortunately able to follow. ''And this poor, 
empty, joyless hand, accustomed only to bestow- 
ing alms at yonder gate, shall now bestow life’s 
richest happiness, and lead the child to his 
mother” — then, suddenly dropping the hands 
she has upraised towards the image of the Vir- 
gin in glad rejoicing, she stands as if struck by 
some inward shock, murmuring, half to herself, 
but not in gladness, "Ah — this poor, empty, 
joyless hand!” 

It is Zara, the guilty one, held there for judg- 
ment, whose sympathy with the desolate young 
Abbess shows so clearly in her face. Woman 
face to face with woman — there they stand, 
divided by impassible barriers, yet in their 
heart of hearts reaching forth hands to each 
other. Frau Schulze, could she have had her 
way, would have developed this scene beyond 
the outlines, which lack of time restricted it to — 
but the long act must be drawn to a close. 
Zara is told that, having once saved the boy, 
she may depart, unpunished, but, though she 
kneels, imploring Hildegarde to suffer her to 
behold him for one moment ere she returns to 
her solitary hut in the forest, the Abbess bids 
her, instead of heavier penalty, to take a solemn 


230 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


oath that she never again will cross Friedrich’s 
path. 

Before the shrine beside the chapel the 
gypsy litters her vow, in a tableau greatly 
admired, and exciting much mirth behind the 
scenes among all who are perforce reminded 
of the way wherein Miss Clive had extracted 
a promise of keeping the peace from Julia & 
Co. The gate of the garden is thrown open. 
The gypsy turns away, with a long glance of 
unspoken sorrow and sympathy towards Hilde- 
garde, and, shrouding her fierce gray head in 
the crimson mantle, slowly moves across the 
torchlit stage and out into the dark night, to 
the sounds of low, sad music. 

The Abbess stands silently looking after her 
until, starting at the harsh clang of the gate as 
it is closed by Agatha, she bids the nuns to 
follow her into the chapel to pray for that wild, 
lawless spirit; and, as they pass across the 
stage in dark procession, the torch-bearers fall- 
ing last into the ranks, while Ilouschka, motion- 
less at one side, gazes upon Hildegarde’s still, 
melancholy face, the curtain falls. 

ACT FOUKTH. 

No change of scene being required, the con- 
vent garden is soon displayed in the light of 
early morning. On the stone bench sits the 
Abbess, and facing her stands Christine, the 


THE CLOISTER IN THE FOREST. 231 

maid of Countess von Altheim, and formerly 
the nurse of Friedrich, whom she has looked 
upon as he slept and identified beyond doubt. 
She burns to hasten to her mistress with the 
happy tidings, but the Abbess replies that it 
is she herself, by virtue of her offce, to whom 
this charge must fall, and, bidding her to keep 
silence, dismisses her. Rising and pacing to 
and fro, Hildegarde briefly reviews the strange 
events of the past night. Her heart is filled 
by a wild mixture of joy, and innocent envy, 
and thankfulness. Amid all this the dark 
image of the fierce, desolate, guilty, yet 
remorseful gypsy woman floats unceasingly 
before the Abbess, who, herself unused to hap- 
piness, finds her thoughts straying from the 
fair Countess to the lonely outcast. Her 
speech (greatly improved by Frau Schulze) 
ends with a wild lament that her own joyless 
existence may never sweep away into 

^^More life, and fuller,’^ 

on the tide of swiftly succeeding events and deep 
human interests which has now beat so sud- 
denly against the convent walls in the heart of 
the dark forest. 

Ladislaus enters, radiant with gladness, 
earnestly beseeching the Abbess to grant him 
the boon of being the first to inform Friedrich 
of his real parentage. Hildegarde gladly 


232 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

consents, and departs to seek the boy. The 
young Magyar, meanwhile, is joined by 
Ilouschka, and Kate’s final torment of being 
forced to see comedy thrust headlong into the 
midst of her own fancies is renewed in the brief 
dialogue between these unruly though spirited 
actresses, who mercilessly abuse their oppor- 
tunity, and charm the spectators, as before. 
Their talk is cut short by the return of Hilde- 
garde, leading Friedrich, and beckoning to 
Ilouschka to follow her. Fanny, behind the 
scenes, had to listen to a serious protest from 
Grace Howard against putting Kate into mis- 
ery any more. 

‘ ‘ She ought to be grateful, rather than indig- 
nant ! ’ ’ exclaimed Fanny. ‘ ^ She ought to 
know that any audience, even at a school play, 
want something else than gypsies, and goblins, 
and sentiment, and all the fantastic German 
stuff that she adores. You’ll see, girls, Kate 
Armstrong is terribly slow, and childish, and 
backward in some things, though she is so clever 
in others ; and, when she’s older, she won’t seem 
nearly so bright as she does now, for her lack 
of versatility will show the more when she has 
not her extreme youth any longer for an 
excuse. ’ ’ 

don’t think that just now, when she has 
got up this play, which you know very well that 
neither you nor Verena, with all your versa- 


THE CLOISTER IN THE FOREST. 233 

tility, nor anybody else, would have dreamed of 
attempting without her, is the time to accuse 
Kate of being slow, or childish, or backward, 
said Grace, with some asperity. 

The brief scene between the boys is carried 
off with much spirit on the part of Ladislaus, 
and feeling on that of Friedrich, whose outburst 
of glad emotion is interrupted by the ringing 
of the bell for matins. The nuns file across the 
stage; last of all comes the Abbess, who bids 
the children to follow them, while she remains 
to break the joyful news to Bertha von Altheim, 
who now enters, full of thanks for the hospi- 
tality she has enjoyed, and speaking of the 
eagerness with which she leaves this tranquil 
spot to hasten to the camp and to ^‘meet him 
from whom she has been parted for so long.’^ 

The Abbess echoes her words with another 
meaning, thinking of the long-lost son. Her 
anxious eyes and solemn earnestness of tone 
excite the fears of Bertha, who fancies her hos- 
tess (almost overcome by the strangeness of her 
unwonted mission, full of tremulous and pain- 
ful joy to one whose daily tasks are but the 
monotonous and dreary duties of a cloister) 
to be about to break to her some evil tidings. 
Hildegarde, unable to control herself any 
longer, flings her arms round Bertha, adjuring 
her to be strong to bear the shock of happiness. 

Again the laurels of the scene are due to 


234 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


Grace Howard, for Agnes Leslie, naturally 
timid before an audience, instead of rising to 
the height of intense feeling demanded by her 
role, throughout the whole looks and acts too 
much like a gentle, startled young girl. Glad 
to escape from the gaze of the spectators, she 
hides her face upon Hildegarde’s shoulder, her 
bright hair shining out against the dark robes 
of the Abbess, whose features quiver as she tells 
the tale. It is not death, but life that makes 
her tremble. Here, amid the deathlike stillness 
of the cloister, in the shadowy garden, where, 
beyond the chapel, she can see the white grave- 
stones of the dead sisters glimmering through 
the firs, shall rise this wondrous joy for Bertha, 
still clinging to Hildegarde, whose full, ringing 
voice falters as she relates the confession and 
departure of old Zara. The deep, rolling 
music from the chapel that from time to time 
accompanies the dialogue again bursts forth. 

Hildegarde and Bertha remain naotionless. 
Ladislaus appears at the door of the chapel, 
holding Friedrich’s hand, but, at a sign from 
the Abbess, instantly retires, after leading his 
half-hesitating companion to the center of the 
stage. Bertha’s face is still hidden on the 
shoulder of Hildegarde, who suddenly unclasps 
her clinging hands, and hurriedly withdraws 
into the background. ‘‘Thou hast no further 
need of me ! Thy son stands here before thee.” 


THE CLOISTER IN THE FOREST. 


235 


Friedrich, no longer hesitating, rushes into 
the outstretched arms of his mother, who, as she 
clasps him, sinks upon her knees with a ring- 
ing cry of joy, and slowly, her face drooping 
upon his shoulder, bends lower till, but for his 
supporting hands, she would fall upon the 
ground. 

Nervous enough as to her success at this 
crisis, Kate’s excitability, so rebuked by Miss 
Clive, stands her in good stead, since she unin- 
tentionally does the very best thing by forget- 
ting herself altogether, and weeping in earnest, 
the scene being mainly carried through by the 
pantomime and the organ music. The Abbess, 
lingering a moment in the background, slowly 
ascends the steps of the chapel, extends her 
hand as if in benediction towards the mother 
and her child, and vanishes within the dark door- 
way, to be met behind the door by Frau 
Schulze, sobbing with excited sympathy and 
memories of the little son she had left buried on 
the banks of the Rhine, before she had left the 
Fatherland, so long ago. 

Hildegarde ’s work is not yet done. Out from 
the chapel bursts a jubilant psalm of thanks- 
giving, scarcely dying away before it is blent 
with the sudden clash of martial music. Bertha 
starts, and lifts up her radiant face, while 
Friedrich wonders at those wild sounds rising 
on the morning air beyond the garden, from the 


236 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

soldiers sent to escort his mother. The chapel 
door opens. Hildegarde appears, followed by 
the nuns, who range themselves round the 
stage, while Agatha, entering from the convent, 
brings a letter that, handed to the Abbess, is 
given by her to her guest. 

Bertha reads it with a cry of joy. Her hus- 
band, recovering, writes that a noble prisoner 
has fallen into his hands, the Count Zrinyi, 
falsely believed to have perished in battle, but 
who, discovered wounded and senseless, is now 
being restored to health. Hildegarde departs 
to tell the Hungarians, while Bertha fills up the 
brief interval by promising Ilouschka that she 
will protect her until her marriage with her 
lover, whose name, when bashfully and coquet- 
tishly mentioned by the pretty gypsy (at whom 
old Agatha scowls for her impropriety in ven- 
turing to talk about him within the sanctuary) , 
as in dramatic duty bound proves to be that of 
a brave young soldier in Count Zrinyi ’s troop, 
who was mentioned as having been made a pris- 
oner along with his master, whom he had helped 
to find upon the field. 

The music from without begins anew as the 
stately form of Hildegarde appears, leading 
in the now radiant Hungarian lady and her son. 
They are to accompany the von Altheims to 
the town garrisoned by the Allies, from which 
the Hungarians had fled in sorrow only a few 





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The Bond of Friendship. 


THE CLOISTER IN THE FOREST. 237 

days before. As the two rejoicing women 
turn towards the silent Mother Superior in glad 
thanksgiving, Ladislaus reminds her of a Greek 
custom, called ‘‘The Bond of Friendship,'' 
whereby two youths, who desire to go through 
life like brethren, are, as it were, consecrated 
to their future fellowship by the blessing that 
some maiden, dear to both, shall invoke upon 
them. He himself and Friedrich would fain 
implore the Abbess to bless them, in solemn 
witness to this bond, before they go. 

They are but children — and Hildegarde is no 
young, joyous maiden who has been their play- 
mate — yet it is from her hand, all unaccustomed 
to bestowing joy, that they feel that they have 
received their new happiness. The Abbess 
has regained her sad composure; yet her voice 
trembles as she utters the benediction that they 
implore ere they depart into the wide, wondrous 
life that calls to them from across the convent 
threshold she herself may never pass, and bids 
them keep this hour in remembrance, together 
with this memory of her who hath no link with 
any earthly future save in the echo, in their 
own hearts, of the parting words that now she 
speaks; and, as she clasps the children's hands 
together, and stretches out her own in blessing 
on their heads, the curtain falls. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


PRIDE AND VAINGLORY. 

C HILDISH and fantastic though it was, 
the little drama was not allowed to 
close without fresh tributes of approval 
from the indulgent audience, and when, at a 
sign from Frau Schulze, the curtain just low- 
ered was raised to give a final glimpse of the 
scene, Kate’s ecstasy was so intense that she 
could scarcely keep from sobbing. She hardly 
saw how Herr Schulze, beaming with delight, 
rose from his seat in the orchestra and flung 
three large wreaths of wild laurel at her own, 
Grace Howard’s and Verena’s feet. When the 
curtain was let down, after a long pause, during 
which the solemn music was almost drowned by 
the universal clapping of hands, everything 
swam before her and she clung to Grace, gasp- 
ing, ‘‘Oh, I’m so happy! Nothing went wrong 
and nobody broke down. We must take these 
wreaths upstairs and keep them forever.” 

Frau Schulze, exclaiming that her dear child 
was quite ^^freudetrunJcen/* intoxicated with 
joy, tried to calm her; but Fanny and Verena 
took matters into their own hands by each 

238 


PRIDE AND VAINGLORY, 


239 


seizing an arm of Kate and dragging her off 
the stage, where the Marsh King and Will-o’- 
the-Wisps were dancing a polka with tlie nuns 
and gypsies, through a side passage and out 
into the garden. The late afternoon light was 
slanting on the tall cedars. Kate looked up, 
breathing more freely as she dropped upon a 
seat, crying, ‘ ‘ How calm, and still, and peaceful 
it seems out here! I should like just to fling 
myself down upon the grass and sleep. 

Which means that you’re thoroughly 
exhausted,” said Fanny. knew you’d coh 
lapse fast enough when you came out here. 
Come up and rest.” 

‘‘We all have to go,” said Verena, springing 
to her feet. “I should like to he among the 
audience as they disperse, to be complimented 
on my acting, but the General ordered us to 
march straight upstairs at once. ’ ’ 

Kate ceased to^ object and sutfered herself to 
be hurried off to her alcove, finding the long, 
quiet dormitory, glowing in the sunset light, 
soon filled by a motley troop whom Miss Almira 
vainly tried to sober down by her commands 
not to be noisy, as they divested themselves of 
their stage apparel and, obeying the spirit 
rather than the letter of Miss Clive’s orders to 
seek repose before dressing for the evening, 
gathered together to talk in whispers. Verena 
darted into Fanny’s nook, too much elated to 


240 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


feel fatigue; but Kate, taking otf her boy’s cos- 
tume, flung herself on her bed, and instantly fell 
into a sound sleep, from which she was roused 
by Agnes, a tea-tray in her hand. A light was 
burning, but the dormitory seemed deserted, 
while the hum of voices greeted Kate’s ears 
from below as she sprang up, exclaiming, ‘^Am 
I late, then, after all? ” 

‘‘I hated to rouse you,” said Agnes, ‘^but you 
are my stage-child to-night, so I gained permis- 
sion to let you sleep through tea-time. Get up 
and eat this food, and let me help you dress. 
The others are down. ’ ’ 

^‘Ean off and let me sleep like a dormouse, 
did they?” growled Kate, between her hurried 
mouthfuls. ‘‘Kind, when they knew how T 
didn’t want to lose a single moment! Verena 
might have done me the favor of giving me a 
friendly pull — but she’s led by Fanny now.” 

“Fanny and Verena have had a large share 
in helping your play to succeed,” admonished 
Agnes, as she smoothed out her small friend’s 
wild locks. “You had better keep on good 
terms with them both.” 

“Yes; but it was so uncommonly like them 
to be ready to help me in any way that’s fan- 
ciful, and pretty, and redounds to their own 
credit, and yet never dream of stopping to 
waken me, or help me in anything that’s merely 
useful, and don’t concern themselves,” moral- 


PRIDE AND VAINGLORY. 24 1 

ized Kate, with more to the same effect as she 
finished eating and suffered Agnes to array 
her in her thin white frock, with scarlet rib- 
bons. Clasp my locket, please, my fingers 
tremble. There ^s the music. Oh, how I hate 
to be the last 

Spite of all etforts, the dancing was about to 
begin when they entered the room. Kate’s 
excitement was beginning to suffer a reaction, 
and she whispered, ‘‘How I wish Mrs. Hill had 
not refused to let us wear our stage dresses 
to-night ! Then I wouldn ’t have felt shy. ’ ’ 

“You would have had to dance with girls; 
and I want you to be my brother Bernard’s 
partner for this set of Lancers,” replied Agnes, 
keeping hold of her small friend until she had 
secured the above-mentioned youth and sent 
him off with Kate; while even the gentle Mrs. 
Leslie was scarcely able to repress a smile as 
she saw the sheepishness which suddenly over- 
came her godchild like a spell as she nervously 
walked down the long room, holding the arm 
of her cavalier for the nonce. 

He was a comely, bright-looking fellow of six- 
teen, not very tall, but seeming far too manly 
for such a diminutive girl as Kate, who had 
not seen him for two years, and felt glad that 
the dancing left little time for talking just now. 
She was somewhat proud of having a boy for 

her partner, as the slight sprinkling of “the 
16 


242 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


opposite sex’’ among the guests, as usual, con- 
sisted of the brothers and cousins of some of 
the pupils, and a few remarkably solemn-look- 
ing youths from Herr Schulze ’s seminary, who, 
though not present at the theatricals, had been 
invited to honor the evening’s festivities. The 
good Professor, now exerting himself heroically 
in aiding Mrs. Hill and her statf to entertain 
the company, had been so everlastingly plied by 
the ^‘General” with fluent orations concerning 
the great desirability of teaching young ladies 
and gentlemen to converse with each other, 
mingled with repeated warnings to sutfer none 
but the mildest and most innocent lambs from 
his fold to enter hers, that the choice had inevit- 
ably fallen upon some of the dullest and least 
available of his flock, who awkwardly huddled 
together in a forlorn knot until Herr Schulze 
traversed the room with his short, quick step, 
and, laying his squat, strong hand on the 
shoulder of his intended victim, propelled him 
by main force from his ignominious retreat and 
landed him beside the young lady destined to 
become his partner in the dance, who generally 
proved lively enough for them both. 

The stirring music of the Lancers exhilarated 
Kate ; and it was not until the set broke up and 
she found herself marching up and down with 
her companion that she, as she candidly told 
herself, burst out into the full bloom of her 


PRIDE AND VAINGLORY* 


243 


stupidity. Bernard Leslie seemed a little shy, 
and it increased her own shyness tenfold. How 
she longed to be able to dash into a lively talk 
about nothing, or to run away from him and 
seek congenial fun among the Thistles yonder. 
How bored she felt ; how immeasurably inferior 
this so-called amusement seemed to anything 
wherein her own invention could find play. 
Kate felt even more flat and unimportant than 
she had done while watching the Csardds, which, 
by the way, she often heard the guests round 
her mentioning as the gem of the performance. 
What a contrast this was to the romance, and 
stir, and buoyant happiness of a few hours ago ! 
Oh, that she were Friedrich’’ once more, 
dancing with the goblins, sleeping in the vision, 
or appearing on the wall, with the red light of 
the torches flashing round her, and the music 
bursting out so loud and wild! Then she had 
felt gay, and strong, and confident — how pro- 
voking that she might not have worn her stage 
dress and danced with girls, instead of being 
bothered with a hoy to talk to ! 

The hoy, however, was a good dancer, and 
Kate, as he led her away to a set just forming 
for the ^‘Prince Imperial,” felt rather elated 
at still having him for her partner, especially 
as many of her friends had no cavaliers at all. 
She grew so desperate, so conscious of the all- 
observing eyes of Julia & Co., so afraid lest 


244 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR* 

Verena, urged on by Fanny, might tease her 
when the guests had departed, that she gave up 
trying to be sensible, and plunged headlong into 
a not very wise but exceedingly animated con- 
versation upon school-life, which Bernard took 
up with boyish eagerness, treating her to the 
recital of sundry pranks at his own academy, 
and enjoying her voluble yarns, wherein, it is to 
be feared, that neither Mrs. Hill, Miss Clive, 
nor the other teachers figured with that awe- 
inspiring dignity and reputation for knowledge, 
wisdom and justice to which they would have 
considered themselves entitled. 

^^One thing. Miss Kate,’’ began Bernard, 
their talk having naturally strayed to the per- 
formance, fancied your play seemed ^cut’ 
now and then.” 

^ ‘ Oh, yes ! ’ ’ cried the wronged dramatist. 
^^Just after the second act, who should appear 
but Miss Clive with a message from Mrs. Hill, 
which I know she had put into her head, saying 
that the play must be shortened, because so 
much time had been taken up by the dancing, 
and the audience would be impatient to get 
back to town for tea. We were terribly scared 
and held a council of war, and Frau Schulze 
settled that half of the scene between the Abbess 
and Countess Bertha must be left out. I was 
furious ; for, you see, the Countess was to have 
told Hildegarde how she had lost her eldest 


PRIDE AND VAINGLORY. 


245 


child by his falling into a river, and it would 
have smoothed the way for the old gypsy’s 
confession, which was made to come off so sud- 
denly, with half of what I wrote left out. And, 
in the fourth act, they omitted ever so much. 
I couldn’t help thinking that my play, as it was 
acted, was like ‘Wallenstein’s Horse’ in ‘The 
Foreign Tour of Brown, Jones and Robinson’ — 
don’t you remember how they were told that 
the head, neck and three of the legs, and a good 
deal more, had been restored, but that ‘all the 
rest is the original horse?’ I’m so glad you 
noticed it — I have been woefully overruled all 
through. ’ ’ 

“How beastly!” exclaimed Bernard, in his 
boyish sympathy using the forbidden adjective 
which his schoolmates considered expressive of 
the ultimatum of disgust. “J was sure, too, 
that the scene where the lost child is restored 
had been hurried up, though my mother, who, 
by the way, was crying hard all through it — a 
compliment to you. Miss Kate, and Agnes, too — 
declared that it must be all right. ’ ’ 

“Oh, did she cry! I do feel honored! Yes, 
it was dreadfully shortened, and we left out a 
whole scene between Friedrich and his former 
nurse, who was to have rushed in and greeted 
him, while Hildegarde goes to tell the Hun- 
garians that Count Zrinyi is alive. But I was 
so glad that all the shouting from the gypsy 


246 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


men, when Friedrich climbs over the wall, went 
off properly. We couldn’t advertise for ^out- 
side shouts’ like some manager, who put such 
a list in the paper, beginning with ^ Dead bodies, 
outside shouts,’ and I forget what else they 
wanted ‘supes’ for. But Herr Schulze stood 
behind the wall, leading off Jake and Sandy 
in the masculine yells the girls couldn’t have 
managed. He had great work at rehearsals to 
prevent Jake from howling so as to betray Hhe 
cullud pusson,’ and to keep Sandy from shriek- 
ing in broad Scotch. He tried to teach them 
some German word, only, of course, they forgot 
everything except giving a good, loud yell, and 
the Professor’s voice drowned theirs.” 

‘‘How I wish I might have been allowed to 
come in there and howl away to help the grand 
effect,” said Bernard eagerly. “I was wish- 
ing, anyhow, that you had written some part for 
a fellow of my age, which Mrs. Hill would have 
let me enjoy acting along with you.” 

“Oh!” cried Kate, delighted. “Can’t I see 
her face, or Miss Clive’s, at the bare sugges- 
tion! I daresay she’d allow Herr Schulze to 
act some sort of old stage-father; but we didn’t 
want his stoutness in such narrow quarters, and 
he was perfectly invaluable behind the scenes, 
shouting and looking after the stage-moon. 
That was his own invention. He cut a crescent- 
shaped hole in a dark window- shade and cov- 


PRIDE AND VAINGLORY. 


247 


ered it with yellow silk, with the light of a 
lamp, placed close behind it, shining through. 
When he wanted it to set, he pulled down the 
shade very slowly, and at rehearsals it creaked 
so that we said it wasn^t ‘all silently the little 
moon drops down behind the sky.^ If it hadn’t 
been for the Schulzes my play would never have 
been anything, for it was really they who put 
it through.” 

The Professor’s square figure now appeared 
crossing the room with an air of pleased impor- 
tance as he directed his steps towards a sheep- 
ish youth of about seventeen, Fritz Bachmann, 
plainest, most thoroughly bashful and uncom- 
fortable of the unfortunate lads who had been 
dragged to Mount Cedar in his train. Perceiv- 
ing that his pupil had not stirred from the 
corner wherein he had taken shelter on his 
arrival, Herr Schulze saw fit to reward him 
for his patient martyrdom by hauling him forth 
to present to Kate, whom he described to the 
young German as a Fraulein who would speak 
Deutsch with him as long as he desired. The 
Professor’s slow progress across the room, one 
hand upon the shoulder of his shrinking cap- 
tive, the other wildly gesticulating in air as 
he strove by verbal arguments to keep up the 
poor boy’s courage, caught the attention of 
Bernard Leslie, who exclaimed, “Here’s a ter- 
rible pair making directly for us. Miss Kate, 


248 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

an elderly Goth and a young Vandal — what shall 
we doT^ 

^^Hush, don’t laugh at Herr Schulze, he’s so 
nice, as I’ve just been telling you — and he stood 
godfather for me, with your mother” 

Kate stopped, half-alarmed as her godfather 
drew near. She did not want to get rid of 
Bernard now. Luckily for her, Fritz Bachmann 
stood still at a little distance, extricating him- 
self with a jerk from the Professor’s grasp, 
awed less by the Franlein’s childish aspect than 
by the sight of Bernard, who, checking his 
impulse to laugh, struggled hard to reduce his 
countenance to a properly calm and vacant 
expression as he bent down over Kate’s chair, 
desperately rattling off a string of nonsense 
nowise relating to Fritz, who fancied, all the 
same, that he was being held up to ridicule. 
Herr Schulze stepped forward. 

<^My godchild,” he began benignly in Ger- 
man, addressing Kate by the title which he 
thought should serve as a bond of union 
between them. Kate glanced up into his mild 
blue eyes with a look of mingled roguishness 
and anxiety he had never seen on her face 
before. He stroked his thick brown beard (the 
Professor was not many years past fifty, 
though the girls considered him a patriarch), 
and resumed, in his own tongue : 

^‘1 have brought with me a young scholar 


PRIDE AND VAINGLORY. 


249 


who has not long left the Fatherland, and is 
very shy, and I have promised him that I will 
present him to my dear godchild, who will talk 
German to him,^’ he said, with a supplicating 
look that gradually wandered off to include 
poor Bachmann, still holding in helpless misery 
aloof. 

For the first time in her existence Kate was 
guilty of a piece of feminine artfulness in order 
to gain her ends. 

‘^Fraulein Forster speaks German far better 
than I, and could amuse him far more — and 
this young English gentleman does not speak it 
much, and it might not seem civil to him to 
leave off talking his own language, ’ ’ said Kate, 
with glowing cheeks, feeling guilty of ingrati- 
tude towards her kind friend, yet unable to 
repress a sense of mischievous joy at thus keep- 
ing Bernard, astonishing Herr Schulze and 
perhaps punishing Verena for sundry small 
provocations by having the forlornity thrust 
upon her hands. But Kate was a novice in this 
sort of thing, and felt overwhelmed with shame 
the instant she had spoken. She had not cour - 
age to remain, but, hurriedly rising, caught 
Bernardos arm and hastily turned away from 
the wondering Professor, moving past the 
guests until she and her much-amused com- 
panion had left the dancing-room, and stood on 
the long, lighted porch at the top of the steps. 


250 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


‘‘We mustn’t go down into the garden. Mrs. 
Hill doesn’t approve of moonlight flirtations, 
you know.” 

“You did settle that old Professor pretty 
thoroughly, judging by his looks,” laughed 
Bernard, who, like all his sex, felt much more 
inclined to respect Kate since he had seen her 
resolute action to ward off poor Bachmann and 
-keep himself. He had thought her rather slow 
at first, but she had grown quite amusing now. 
He was a very good young fellow, but not 
troubled by any of his sister’s over-conscien- 
tiousness, and considered Kate’s flight from 
Herr Schulze and Fritz as a capital joke. 

“He thinks me dreadfully rude, I know,” 
sighed Kate, divided between penitence and 
mirth. 

‘ ‘ He ’s a bear-leader anyhow, isn ’t he ? He has 
the regular professional look written all over 
him,” said Bernard, feeling as though the fact 
of . Herr Schulze being a schoolmaster must 
render him a sort of natural enemy to youth 
in general, whom he and Kate were justified 
in keeping at a proper distance, during the 
festal occasion at least. 

“Oh, but he’s so nice; he wanted me to make 
my own part stronger, with a scene for Fried- 
rich with Zara — wasn’t Helen Palmer perfectly 
splendid as the old gypsy — ^he said I had not 
enough to do, and that Verena had rather too 


PRIDE AND VAINGLORY. 


25J 


much. Miss Clive means to have him here next 
year to teach Greek. We have only lady teach- 
ers now; we^re like the girls in Tennyson’s 
Princess, and I’m sure Miss Clive is the image 
of Ida. I wonder whether somebody like the 
Prince will come and carry her off. I would 
be glad, for her sake, but we would miss her 
horribly, for she’s so stirring, and handsome, 
and approves of acting, and” 

Kate’s excitement led her to raise her voice 
as they passed the window of a class-room now 
thrown open to the company. 

Acting!” repeated ‘‘Foxey’s” well-known 
tones, as her dark, handsome head appeared 
leaning forward among several Thistles, trying 
not to laugh. ^‘Are you there, Kate, to 
rehearse the balcony scene in ‘Borneo and 
Juliet!’ ” 

“Are you posted, there, Fanny, for the sake 
of eavesdropping, and trying your skill as Lady 
Teazle!” retorted Kate, whose acquaintance 
with the ‘ School for Scandal, ’ it should be said, 
consisted in a hurried glancing over the play 
during the holidays at her uncle’s, where she 
formed intimate and unchecked friendships with 
many books which her teachers would have pre- 
ferred to see reserved for future years. None 
of the group around Fanny understood the allu- 
sion, but the name of Lady Teazle struck them 
as being so remarkably well suited to their 


252 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


spokeswoman that Kate found she had uttered 
a rejoinder which was received with a laugh 
of genuine and sympathizing applause. 

The shallow and childish merriment sent the 
blood tingling through her veins with satisfac- 
tion at having held her own, and turned the 
tables on her clever classmate for once. 
Bernard, too, seemed even more amused than he 
had been by her conduct towards Fritz, and 
gratified her by showing no inclination to lin- 
ger and cultivate Fanny’s society, but drew her 
on back into the hall. Kate had desired to talk 
a little with Mrs. Leslie (the sole stranger 
present who took any especial interest in her), 
but on reaching the door beheld, with dismay, 
that the gentle, soft-voiced English lady was 
holding an apparently confidential conversation 
with Elisabeth, which Kate’s imagination 
instantly converted into a series of solemn 
complaints against herself. Bernard’s quick 
brown eyes sparkled with mirth as he watched 
the sudden change pass over her face. 

^^Come back,” she half-whispered. 
daren’t go in! I know I’m being held up to 
reprobation. I wish Elisabeth would be satis- 
fied with her crop of prizes and depart, instead 
of staying until autumn, to worry us. I’m 
afraid to go near your mother now for fear of 
being lectured. ’ ’ 

‘‘My mother isn’t so fond of lecturing as to 


PRIDE AND VAINGLORY. 253 

be bothering people in the midst of a party,’’ 
laughed Bernard, as he led Kate across the hall 
into a small room, where the mild refreshments 
allotted to festivities at Mount Cedar stood 
during the evening ; and they proceeded to com- 
pare notes upon the fertile topic of getting into 
scrapes and being lectured in a style which 
hardly requires further mention, until a sud- 
den sound of music was heard, causing Kate 
to start. 

‘‘They are going to have the last dance, a 
Virginia reel, in the hall, ’ ’ she exclaimed, 
eager, of course, to retain triumphant posses- 
sion of her partner, and quite uneasy lest the 
services which he, as a gentleman, was just now 
obliged to render to a knot of unescorted dam- 
sels, who rushed in, sans facon, to get some 
cake and lemonade, should result in his being 
cleverly seized and carried off before her eyes. 
“Miss Clive won’t allow any but simple dances 
except on the stage; you know she glories in 
keeping us children as long as possible, and I 
enjoy it. Only she looked so solemn, and said, 
‘Nothing but square dances can be permitted,’ 
when some one asked leave to have the polka 
mazurka to-night, and ’ ’ — Kate ’s words received 
an apparent contradiction in the sudden 
entrance of Verena and Brownie, who came 
dancing an impromptu polka into the room, and, 
whirling round merrily, stood still just inside 
the open door. 


254 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


^‘Kate,’^ began Verena, ignoring Bernard, 
but quietly taking in every detail, ‘^can you 
come with me to Fanny for just one moment F’ 

^^Not I,’’ answered Kate, certain that some 
trick must be in prospect, as she settled herself 
on the sofa, determined not to be so simple as 
to leave Bernard exposed to the combined fas- 
cinations of several pretty girls while she 
obeyed a summons likely to result in her dis- 
comfiture and in having to dance the reel with a 
Thistle after all. ‘^What is it?” 

“Only something which you would be sorry 
to miss,” quietly added the Hungarian, in her 
full, vibrating voice. ‘ ^ Something connected 
with Hhe days when we went gypsying’ — so you 
had better go. ’ ’ 

Verena somewhat mystified Kate as she stood 
there, like a picture framed by the doorway, 
in her white dress and red ribbons, her grace- 
ful arms outspread against the woodwork, her 
dark hair looking blacker and more lustrous 
than ever beneath the shimmer of an old- 
fashioned silver round comb once belonging to 
her mother, while she nodded her head and beat 
time with one beautiful little foot to the music 
from beyond. 

Kate hesitated ; then glanced at Brownie, who 
met the unspoken question with her clear honest 
eyes, merely saying, “You had better go.” 

“I must ask you to take me,” began Kate to 


PRIDE AND VAINGLORY. 


255 


Bernard with an aplomb which took her school- 
mates by surprise as he gave her his arm. 
Verena, mutely stepping aside to let them pass, 
felt her estimate of Kate rise several degrees, 
since both she and Brownie had come prepared 
to see her rush off at the first hint of anything 
exciting, and may possibly have looked upon 
Bernard as a prize likely to revert to them- 
selves. Eager to see what would happen next, 
the couple sped along the hall, preceded by a 
guide awaiting them in the shape of the merry 
Thistle who had acted the Marsh King, and 
who, saying something hardly heard amid the 
talk and music, led them into a small room, 
where, to her surprise, Kate beheld Fanny 
seated at a table, with writing materials, encir- 
cled by a crowd of the German troupe, whose 
presence, no longer a bore, seemed to her a sort 
of protection from any very atrocious teasing 
they might have in store. 

^‘Well, Friedrich,’^ began Fanny, glancing at 
her audience, struggling not to laugh; ‘^not 
even your recent change of role could prevent 
you from obeying my summons ; so I still have 
hopes that you have not forgotten our adven- 
tures in the forest before you undertook to 
burst out into a young lady all at once, for you 
seem to have added on to your age the four 
years you dropped when you were frisking 
round the stage this afternoon as a boy of 
ten’’ 


256 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


How much further this raillery, but for 
Bernard’s presence, might have been carried 
was the question so absorbing Kate that she 
did not even trouble herself to reply to the mild 
banter with which her friend treated her for a 
few moments until, suddenly exchanging her 
provoking tone for a business-like one, ^‘Foxey” 
went on briskly: 

^^And now for the subject in hand. We have 
drawn up a sort of Bound Kobin to Mrs. Hill, 
asking leave to have ourselves photographed 
in twelve striking scenes from your play, before 
breaking up. We club together to defray 
expenses, and we each get three sets — here ’s the 
list ; and you are made prominent in every place 
where Friedrich possibly can be; so don’t he 
jealous at our getting so much glory by our 
dance. We have been asked several times by 
strangers to point out Hhe little girl who got 
it all up;’ and Frau Schulze has been sound- 
ing your praises while you were running about, 
and Agnes said her mother wrote a long inscrip- 
tion on the fly-leaf of her printed copy about its 
being the work of her dear godchild, and” — 
Kate, heartily delighted, heard no more, for 
Bernard Leslie slyly put in with remarks 
referring to ' AVallenstein’s Horse,” which 
made her shake with laughter, while her eyes 
devoured the written list. She was in her own 
beloved, dramatic, ideal world once more. 


PRIDE AND VAINGLORY. 


257 


broke in Verena, ^^what do you 
say? If Mrs. Hill consents we will send for 
that little German photographer in town to 
come here to-morrow and take us before the 
stage is pulled down. And, if there’s time, we 
mean to wind up with a grand group of us all — 
Zara, Countesses, Abbess, nuns, gypsies, Will- 
o’-the-Wisps and ‘supers’ standing together, 
with you and me on either side of the Marsh 
King in the foreground.” 

“Where’s the Kound Eobin? — Grace and 
Agnes have signed; so I needn’t hesitate,” cried 
Kate, adding her name to the numerous signa- 
tures; then, taking Bernard’s arm as a matter 
of course, was proudly hurried out into the 
hall, beginning to be filled by couples for the 
Virginia reel, exulting to find herself marched 
up to a place near the top, from which post of 
honor, rare to any save the elder girls, she 
beheld her schoolmates straying in, with or 
without gentlemen, but usually without. 

“You can’t complain of not getting jolly good 
larks. Miss Kate,” said Bernard, from across 
the ranks. “I wish my own school ever was 
as jolly. Oh — look, that doleful chap you ran 
away from is happy at last ! ’ ’ 

Kate, looking round, saw Fritz Bachmann 
solemnly advancing up the hall with Miss 
Dorinda hanging on his arm, evidently much 
gratified at having gained a gentleman for a 


17 


258 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


partner, since she was apt either to be crowded 
out altogether, or else obliged to pair off with 
one of the smaller girls. The melancholy Fritz, 
when so cruelly headed off from being enter- 
tained by Kate, had been seized anew by the 
Professor and presented to Dorinda, who found 
him sufficiently available for all the attention 
she wanted, and consequently enjoyed the 
unhoped-for pleasure of being led to a good 
place in the dance ; while Kate inwardly 
reflected that two young ladies unaccustomed 
to enjoying much importance were in for an 
unwonted line of luck this evening, anyhow. 

Her spirits were so elated that she capered 
through the reel like all the stage-goblins broken 
loose, as Verena whispered to her when they 
met ; and it was well she had some secret grati- 
fication, for, as might have been expected, no 
sooner had the guests departed than she found 
herself encircled, not merely by Julia & Co., 
but by all the foremost wags of the Thistles, in 
their different ways trying to tease her about 
what they succinctly chose to term her ‘‘having 
set up a beau. ’ ’ Kate, flushed and exhilarated, 
for once gave small heed to these jokes; and, 
perched upon the arm of a sofa, with dangling 
feet, and blonde locks straying over her white 
dress even more wildly than usual, sat nodding 
a sarcastic assent or a laughing denial to the 
chorus of witticisms until they were suddenly 


PRIDE AND VAINGLORY. 


259 


quashed by Miss Clive entering to announce 
that Mrs. Hill would allow the photographs to 
be taken, while poor Miss Almira (who had 
actually allowed herself to sit through the play 
in a back seat, with great enjoyment of tlio 
spectacle, though she did not understand a sin- 
gle word of the dialogue) followed to summon 
them all to prayers in a rather more dismal 
mood than usual. 

So the photos were taken, including the 
‘‘grand group,” the singular and comic jumble 
whereof atforded the troupe no end of hearty 
fun. As for Kate, her spirits had by this time 
reached such a pitch that she awakened serious 
anxiety in her godmother, who, though in many 
things hardly the sort of person likely to gain 
permanent influence over such a girl, saw that 
she required a change, and, to Elisabeth ^s relief 
and Verena’s regret, stoutly overruled all ob- 
jections and carried otf Kate, nothing loth 
(with Grace Howard, who, as it had been set- 
tled, was shortly to accompany the Leslies to 
Europe), for a month at their house in Quebec. 
Kate had spent weeks with them in the 
quaint old city, in Virginians time, and the 
memory of these visits, and the fact that she 
was removed from teasing, temptation and 
undue stimulus, united to produce a style of 
conduct so exemplary that she, for once, 
contrived to please almost without effort, and 


260 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


to win approbation of a kind very different 
from the childish pride and vainglory which 
had lately been intoxicating her. 


CHAPTER XV. 


A MOST PRICKLY THISTLE. 

K ate being thus happily disposed of, and 
the greater number of the girls having 
gone home for the holidays, it now 
::eemed as though things at Mount Cedar ought 
lo settle down into the dull tranquillity apt to 
follow on the heels of an excitement. Mrs. 
Hill, sorely exhausted by the fatigue and bustle 
of the last few weeks, soon departed with her 
niece for a month’s rest and quiet at the sea- 
sJiore. Madame Verrier began to grow triste, 
and gladly accepted an invitation from an old 
friend, leaving the much-reduced garrison 
under the charge of little Miss Benson, of 
another under-teacher and of the poor Dragon, 
whose holidays were few, all parties feeling 
at liberty to scatter so long as the untiring 
‘ ‘ General ’ ’ remained at her post, which she sel- 
dom quitted until August, when Mrs. Hill was 
expected to return. 

But the evil genius of Mount Cedar, which, 
in one way or another seemed disposed to blight 
all hopes of peace and order, now ordained that 
Miss Clive should begin her holiday at least 
261 


262 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


three weeks earlier than usual by hastening, 
with Mrs. HilPs permission, to join a married 
sister, who had just returned from abroad. 
Her departure was preceded by a brief but 
characteristic ceremony. Entering the school- 
room, arm in arm with her head pupil, Elisa- 
beth Armstrong, she, in a short address, 
informed her astonished scholars that they, for 
the ensuing month, must yield to Elisabeth the 
same deference and obedience due to the 
teachers or to Mrs. Hill herself. She relied 
upon their sense of honor as gentlewomen in 
trusting that they would avoid playing childish 
tricks or causing needless trouble to their moni- 
tress, who had kindly consented to act as the 
assistant of Miss Benson and Miss Almira until 
the head of the establishment should return. 
‘‘And if any of you,’^ continued Miss Clive, 
directing her piercing eyes towards the desk 
where Verena was sitting, with a slowly 
increasing scowl upon her dark, beautiful 
brows, “who have not yet been long enough at 
this school to have learned that there are 
offences which even Mrs. Hill’s gentleness and 
forbearance cannot pardon, should deem this 
a fitting opportunity for the indulgence of that 
spirit of insubordination which has of late been 
more than usually rife among you, I will inform 
such pupils that all breaches of discipline, how- 
ever unpunished for a time, will be surely 


A MOST PRICKLY THISTLE. 


263 


visited, in the end, by their due reward of severe 
penalties, or by expulsion from the school. 

^‘Hateful! to have that horrid Bess set up 
to tyrannize over us,’^ was the universal growl 
among the younger girls at recess; while the 
Hungarian muttered something suj)posed to be 
a vigorous ejaculation of disgust, in her native 
tongue; and the new regime accordingly 
opened under evil auspices, as indeed any less 
exaltee woman than Miss Clive might have fore- 
seen from the start. 

It very soon became evident that whatever 
benefit the cause of order might derive from 
the absence of Kate, Fanny and other prom- 
inent Thistles would be much more than out- 
weighed by the ceaseless chafing under the rule 
of this new King Stork kept up by nearly all 
the girls. The majority of those remaining 
were madcaps of from eleven to fifteen, who 
were only too glad to profit by the partial 
relaxation of disciiDline to give free vent to their 
pent-up sujDply of animal spirits which had 
been gathering for weeks, but kept within 
bounds by the dread of examination and fear of 
exclusion from the dramatic enjoyments. Miss 
Clive had not been gone three days before Miss 
Benson felt ready to give up her office in 
despair, and the poor Dragon ^s existence grew 
to be more of a burden to her than ever. Great 
as were Kate^s devices for stirring up the 


264 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


Thistles to all manner of nonsense in and out 
of school hours, those of her Magyar friend 
were still greater, and displayed a teeming 
originality of invention which might have made 
Kate feel slightly jealous had she been there to 
witness them. Brownie had gone, and Verena’s 
chief friend and fellow-agitator for the nonce 
was Eose Gordon, the youngest pupil, a fine, 
spirited, nervous, handsome creature of eleven, 
quite as tall as her daring comrade of fourteen, 
who was equally at her ease with girls of every 
age, the few ^ ‘ saints, ^ ^ of course, excepted. 

Eose and Verena, therefore, became the lead- 
ing spirits of Mount Cedar during this unquiet 
time, exhausting their own wits and the 
patience of their teachers by that series of 
meaningless escapades whereby schoolgirls try 
to keep up a ceaseless protest against all legit- 
imate authority. Miss Benson complained, 
scolded, but deferred all serious measures until 
Miss Clive should return. Miss Almira, who, 
strange though it may seem, had from the first 
taken a fancy to Verena and was inclined to 
judge the wild foreign pupil only too leniently, 
as a natural exception to the others, contented 
herself with a few lectures on the sinfulness of 
disobedience, and tried to shut her weary eyes 
to these misdemeanors as much as possible. 
But the young assistant, whom Miss Clive’s 
sudden impulse had permitted to assume a 


A MOST PRICKLY THISTLE. 265 

position of importance among girls only a few 
years her juniors, was of a different kind. 

Elisabeth, on the whole, was both morally 
and mentally superior to the majority of her 
companions, but strikingly inferior to nearly 
all in both tact and gentleness. Her Draconian 
system of government knew no distinction 
between slight sins of negligence and the most 
wilful acts of disobedience. The few elder girls 
murmured, complained to each other, and 
avoided Elisabeth out of school hours as much 
as possible, consoling themselves by reflecting 
that the reign of Queen Bess would not be long. 
The younger malcontents at first tried to vent 
their disgust by treating her with open rude- 
ness until, at the suggestion of their leader, 
they changed their tactics for what they con- 
sidered a better system of cool, contemptuous 
defiance which, as they not untruly fancied, 
must provoke their enemy still further. 

‘ ‘ V erena Forster ! ^ ’ 

The name fell sharply and swiftly from 
Elisabeth’s lips as she entered the school-room 
after hearing a class elsewhere. It was a hot 
July morning; most of the children sat lan- 
guidly turning over the leaves of their books 
or gazing out of the high, open windows. 
Mrs. Hill used to deplore that the absolute 
necessity of providing some sedentary occupa- 
tion to prevent mischief and maintain discipline 


266 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


compelled her to keep up a certain amount of 
study through the summer vacation, when her 
own feelings would have prompted her to allow 
the girls left at school to enjoy a complete holi- 
day. One tiny, graceful figure, with black, 
rippling hair, sat bending over a written sheet, 
rapidly adding a few lines. 

“Verena Forster!^’ Elisabeth reiterated, 
more sharply than before. 

There was no answer. The girls looked on 
in eager curiosity, while Verena slowly raised 
her gray, beautiful, yet mournful and defiant 
eyes. 

‘ ^ Leave otf that scribbling and bring it to me 
this moment, do you hear ? ’ ' thundered the irate 
amateur teacher, in her anger so far unmindful 
of her dignity as to rise from her seat and 
advance a few steps. Bring me that writing 
this moment, or, if you can’t be made to stir, 
Sophie Howard, at your side, shall carry it up 
in spite of you.” 

^‘It all looks like nonsense and gibberish,” 
put in Sophie, glad of a chance to speak, as she 
carelessly peeped over Verena ’s shoulder, and, 
adroitly seizing the corpus delicti, walked with 
it up to the platform. 

‘^Nonsense and gibberish, indeed, I should 
think so!” muttered Elisabeth, quite uncon- 
scious that the strange-looking manuscript, 
which she supposed to contain some silly school- 


A MOST PRICKLY THISTLE. 


267 


girl patois, invented to screen forbidden cor- 
respondence, was nothing but a letter in her 
native Magyar tongue which Verena had been 
writing to one of the friends she had left behind 
at the Hungarian seminary where she had spent 
the happiest portion of her childhood. 

^ Ht is not gibberish ; it is only your ignorance 
which makes you think so,^’ angrily began 
Verena, rising in her turn, and nervously twirl- 
ing a pen in her restless fingers. ^Ht is a letter 
in Hungarian to a friend at home. Mrs. Hill 
allows me to write them. I had learnt all my 
lessons and had nothing to do just then. Keep 
it, if you won^t believe me, till she comes back, 
and show it to her. ’ ^ 

don’t believe you,” growled Elisabeth, 
glad to find fault with Verena, whom she dis- 
liked because of her unsteadiness and unedify- 
ing influence over Kate. ^‘You are trying to 
deceive me — breaking the rules, and scribbling 
wretched made-up lingo to one of the girls, and 
trying on all this fine pretence of a Hungarian 
letter to conceal it. There!” and she tore the 
paper into fragments. As she held them aloft, 
about to dash them contemptuously into the 
waste basket, she uttered a shrill cry, while the 
uplifted hand fell by her side. Verena, full of 
blind fury, had flung the pen she was holding 
at Elisabeth, and the sharp steel point pierced 
her flesh like an arrow. Miss Almira, entering 


268 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


the room a few minutes later, found the girls 
gathered round Elisabeth examining the slight 
wound, and all talking at once ; while the author 
of the mischief, apparently quite unmoved, was 
just gathering up the fragments of her ruined 
epistle from the floor. 

A dozen voices were raised in chorus, but 
Elisabeth’s rose stern and clear above them all. 
“Yes, Miss Almira, this is the girl whom Mrs. 
Hill allows to remain in the school, to become 
my sister’s chosen friend, and to sow mischief 
broadcast by her bad example;” while Eose 
Gordon broke in with a fierce “It was you who 
began it all, you hateful old piece of conceit, 
you!” and laughing Sophie, whom nothing 
could solemnize, uttered jokes at Elisabeth’s 
expense. The others evidently felt anything 
but compassion for the insult offered to their 
enemy, although Miss Almira tried to appal 
the culprit by saying that had the pen been 
rusty the slight gash in the hand might have 
produced blood-poisoning; but Verena only 
compressed her beautifully curved lips still 
more and leaned against a desk; while Miss 
Benson (who had just entered) and Elisabeth 
broke out anew. Almira, seeing that it was 
worse than useless to seek to make an impres- 
sion upon the girl before her fellow-pupils, 
most of whom did not pretend to disguise their 
sympathy, and not wishing her to become a 


A MOST PRICKLY THISTLE. 


269 


heroine, laid her hand on the child’s shoulder 
and gently but firmly led her out of the room. 

Verena, half-frightened and half-astonished, 
followed her teacher across the wide hall and 
through divers side passages until they reached 
the small room which was the ‘‘Dragon’s” own 
especial sanctum, not far from the kitchen. 
The poor Dragon just now did not appear to be 
in her most wrathful mood, for there were tears 
glittering in her sad hazel eyes as she brought 
in her prisoner and closed the door. 

“My poor child,” she began sorrowfully, 
drawing- Verena close to her, while she seated 
herself upon the chintz-covered sofa, “I fear 
that the Evil One must be gaining a sad domin- 
ion over your immortal soul ! ’ ’ 

The ‘ ‘ Hungarian Demon, ^ ’ as Fanny Fox had 
declared that Verena ought to be called when 
she got into one of her wild moods, instead of 
bursting out with the torrent of impertinence 
her teacher had expected, looked up with rather 
a pleased expression at this peculiar mode of 
address. It impressed her fancy, and, as she 
told Kate afterwards, made her feel as though 
she were like “Sintram” or some character in 
a fairy tale. Almira mistook the girl’s sudden 
change from sullen silence to listening eager- 
ness for the dawnings of repentance, and went 
on in the same strain for some minutes; her 
auditor, relaxing by degrees from her angry 


270 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


demeanor, would, however, say but little, and 
that little could hardly be called satisfactory. 
She expressed no real regret for her conduct, 
and refused point-blank to make any amends 
by asking Elisabeth’s pardon. The present 
rebuke was so mild and easy to endure, in com- 
parison with those terrible scoldings with which 
old Mrs. Forbes had been so often accustomed 
to plough up the girl’s too-sensitive if too- 
defiant soul, that she heard it with a certain 
sense of imaginative pleasure, and, mentally 
treasuring up Almira’s favorite phrases about 
the powers of darkness,” the sword of 
faith,” and so forth, for Kate’s edification, 
enjoyed the sensation of being a heroine almost 
as much as if she had stayed in the school-room. 
Almira, finding that her oration produced no 
visible effect, departed to hold a council of war 
with Miss Benson, from which the vengeful 
Elisabeth was excluded; while Verena curled 
herself up comfortably upon the sofa whereon 
the hard-worked Dragon sometimes snatched a 
respite from her incessant labors, congratu- 
lating herself that this unexpected interruption 
of her studies had at least saved her from 
reciting to Queen Bess one of the lessons that 
she disliked the most. 

Miss Benson, after school, tried her hand at 
softening this refractory pupil, but without suc- 
cess, since her admonitions were entirely of the 


A MOST PRICKLY THISTLE. 


27J 


dryly moral and didactic Edgeworthian sort, 
devoid of those appeals to the feelings and 
imagination wherein the Hungarian took 
delight. The pair of baffled teachers finally 
decreed that, as Verena would not say she was 
sorry, she must be treated to solitary confine- 
ment until, as Miss Benson expressed it, ^Tier 
spirit should be broken,” a thing in Verena ’s 
case far easier said than done. The hot July 
noontide therefore found her a prisoner in one 
of the small bedrooms at the top of the house 
belonging to an absent elder pupil. Miss 
Almira, who conducted her thither, undaunted 
by her previous failure, kept uttering good 
counsels which, as before, received no answer, 
and left her provided with spiritual provender 
in the shape of the complete series of religious 
allegories by the Eev. Mr. Monro, which she 
hoped might bring her into a better frame of 
mind. 

Her dinner was sent up to her, and, what with 
reading the wild but beautifully written and 
poetic allegories, and dreaming yet wilder vis- 
ions of her own, she managed to get through 
the long afternoon pretty comfortably. It was 
not until the sunset light began to shine into 
her high lonely room that she first realized her 
captivity, as the merry voices of the girls rose 
on the breeze from the garden. It might have 
comforted her, as she sat looking out on the 


272 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


waving tree tops, could she have known that at 
this very time Rose Gordon, whom she men- 
tally accused of forgetting her, was engaged 
in a remote nook in conspiring with two other 
daring comrades as to the best mode of con- 
veying aid and consolation to the prisoner in 
case they should not be able to set her at liberty. 

Sophie Howard stood there with Rose, and a 
certain madcap of thirteen, whose proper appel- 
lation of Sophie Wagner was usually 
exchanged for the less dignified title of ^‘The 
Little Bear,’’ as her full name was Ursula 
Sophia (and Ursula, as we all know, signifies 
‘‘a little she-bear”), which the young lady, who 
doted on quadrupeds, enjoyed as exceedingly 
appropriate. Sophie Ursula, as the Little Bear 
was called by nearly all in order to distinguish 
her from another Sophie Wagner, a staid elder 
girl now absent, was one of those clever scape- 
graces in the class below Kate’s, who, though 
as yet unmentioned in these pages save in con- 
nection with her role of the Marsh King, had 
long been one of that young lady’s fellow-Tliis- 
tles and firm allies. The “Little Bear” was an 
impulsive, sanguine, gray-eyed blonde, by no 
means lacking in brains, though out of school 
hours often appearing to delight in displaying 
as much foolishness as possible. At present 
she was seated in what she called the typical 
Yankee attitude, on the bough of a small quince 


A MOST PRICKLY THISTLE. 


273 


tree, her red-stockinged legs dangling, her 
bright auburn hair blown by the wind round 
her face, while she busily whittled a stick with 
her penknife and listened to the imaginative 
Eose, who kept suggesting all sorts of wild 
plans for Verena^s release. 

^^No, indeed began Eose, addressing 
Sophie Howard, who was perched upon 
another branch, opposite to the Bear. ^‘You’re 
always laughing and poking fun instead of try- 
ing to make Bess feel ashamed of herself. We 
all ought to stir ourselves and march into the 
room before prayers, and one of us make a 
speech to Miss Benson about its being so mean 
of that hateful thing to have doubted Verena^s 
word.’^ 

‘‘Nonsense said Sophie Howard carelessly. 
“You’re always so head-over-heels, Eose! 
Can’t you see that it’s better just to let their 
majesties cool down overnight, and keep quiet, 
and Verena will soon be let out.” 

“You’re only a child, Eose,” put in Sophie 
Ursula, with a merry twinkle in her eyes. 
“You’re all enthusiasm; you haven’t learned 
yet the advantages of playing the martyr as 
our beloved Elisabeth has been doing all day, 
going about with an ineffable countenance and 
a big black patch over that poor little scratch 
on her hand. If we stir ourselves and make a 
fuss, as you are so crazy to do, we’ll only make 


18 


274 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


things ten times worse for Verena and our- 
selves. You know well enough that we can’t 
any of us afford to get into fresh scrapes just 
now. You got into trouble by putting on a pair 
of roller skates and skating all along the school- 
room before Miss Benson came in to open 
school; and Sophie and I were made examples 
of for forgetting our dignity so far as to begin 
squeaking and twanging a jew’s-harp under 
our desk-lids just as the Dragon marched in. 
We can’t afford to run any more risks, I tell 
you. ’ ’ 

‘‘No,” exclaimed the other Sophie sturdily. 
“The Bear always shows that ‘Sophia’ means 
‘wisdom,’ even in the middle of her tricks; and 
I mean to remember it, too, and practice pru- 
dence for a variety. ’ ’ 

“That was all fun; but this is a case of 
friendship,” Kose replied quickly, provoked at 
the nonchalance of the other two. 

“You’re a born enthusiast, Kose,” retorted 
the philosopher of thirteen, “and I’ll just take 
the liberty of adding that therefore you’ll all 
your life be getting into hot water by doing all 
sorts of ridiculous things for persons who 
wouldn’t take half the same trouble for you. 
Yerena doesn’t really care anything about 
you, or anybody except Kate and Fanny Fox; 
she just likes to run about with you and stir up 
a fuss because the acting is over, and the girls 


A MOST PRICKLY THISTLE* 


275 


gone, and things are dull, and she loves to be 
wondered at, and admired, and talked about. ’ ’ 

‘‘I don’t care,” Rose rejoined angrily, ‘^you 
two are always ready to rush into anything if 
it only i^romises fun; you don’t stop then to 
consider. Only when it’s something for some 
one else, when it concerns risking your own 
precious skins, then you’re prudence and virtue 
itself. ’ ’ 

‘‘Rose, you’re too smart by half in some 
things; what a pity you’ve so little common 
sense in others!” the Little Bear responded, 
laughing, as she flung away the stick she had 
been whittling, shut her knife and slid from her 
perch, followed by the other Sophie, while Rose 
looked sadly on. 

“Going, are you, and not a thing settled?” 
protested the would-he conspirator, whose gen- 
erosity was as much in excess of her prudence 
as the prudence of the Bear appeared to be 
in advance of her generosity. “Well, then I’ll 
have to ‘stand alone,’ as Miss Clive says we 
all have to learn how to do,” which last sen- 
tence, being intended to be very sublime, had, 
of course, the etfect of setting otf her compan- 
ions into peals of laughter as they scampered 
away; while poor Rose, who just now admired 
Verena with all the fervor with which a little 
girl often adores one somewhat older and more 
talented than herself, stood leaning over the 


276 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


low fence tliat separated the garden from an 
enclosure where some linen was hung out to 
dry. 

Full of foolish schemes for instantly rescuing 
her friend from an unjust imprisonment, Eose 
thought, as her eye fell upon some stout new 
hempen cords stretched across the yard, that, 
if she could only manage to smuggle one of 
those ropes to Verena, the Hungarian might 
fasten it to the window sill and slide down, as 
she had often done in the gymnasium, reach the 
ground, and, joining her friends, march boldly 
into the parlor when they should be assembled 
for prayers, in order to confront her persecutors 
and demand justice. Wherefore, having set- 
tled things in her own mind, Eose walked hack 
to the house, fully esteeming herself a heroine, 
and utterly refusing to answer Queen Bess 
when the latter met and spoke to her. 

Tea was over, and it was nearly dark when 
Eose, contriving, not without some difficulty, 
to escape from the two Sophias, who seemed 
bent on teasing her, ran off alone to the unfre- 
quented end of the garden, and, climbing the 
fence, cut down with her penknife some fifty 
feet of brand-new clothes-line with nervous 
eagerness. Hastily rolling it into a great coil 
under her arm, the young rebel sped hack and 
stole, as a conspirator should, by back doors 
and stairs up to her friend’s locked place of 


A MOST PRICKLY THISTLE. 


277 


captivity. Dragging a chair from a neighbor- 
ing room, Eose breathlessly mounted and stood 
on tiptoe, trying to peep through the ventilator, 
but in vain. 

^‘Is that you, AnneT^ asked Verena drowsily, 
fancying that the maid who had brought up her 
tea had again tapped at the door. ‘‘I’m very 
comfortable; IVe gone to bed, and I don’t want 
anything more.” 

“Verena, dear, it’s 7,” began Eose, slightly 
taken aback by the prisoner’s assertion of per- 
fect comfort. “It’s Eose — the only one who’s 
ready to do anything to help you,” she added 
in a tragic whisper, switching one end of the 
long trail of rope through the ventilator as she 
spoke. 

“Goodness, Eose, what’s that for?” asked 
Verena from her bed, as the hard hempen cord 
came rattling down on the floor. 

“It’s a rope— for you to get out of prison 
with,” drearily whispered Eose, feeling 
immeasurably aggrieved by the necessity of an 
explanation. “Don’t you see? — you can tie 
one end to the window, and slide down, and” — 
Eose stopped short as a half-stifled laugh arose 
from within. 

“A rope! For me to escape with! I didn’t 
think any girl on this continent could be so 
romantic!” exclaimed Verena. “Do you think 
I’m a heroine in an opera, and have you a fine 


278 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


fairy prince on a milk-white steed waiting to 
carry me off to some Paradise where school- 
teachers can’t penetrate? And you’ve gone and 
cut that fine new clothes-line that the Dragon 
bought only last week. You’ll catch it if she 
finds you out,” were all poor Pose’s thanks. 

‘‘I only wanted to help you, Verena,” she 
answered, hardly able to restrain her tears. 
‘‘I thought, of course, that you’d be forlorn, 
and dismal, and glad of a chance to get out, and 
confront them all, and” 

^‘Yes; but though I can climb like a cat, I 
prefer not to risk any of my nine lives by sliding 
down a thin clothes-line out of a third-story 
window in the dark,” returned the captive, with 
provoking cheerfulness. ‘‘You’re a dear little 
soul. Rose, but it’s no use. I’m very comforta- 
ble here, and they can’t keep me in jail forever. 
Don’t fret any more about me, but run down 
and try to put that precious clothes-line where 
you found it. Good night ! ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Good night. You won’t ask pardon of Elis- 
abeth?” moaned poor Rose as a sort of last 
resource, slowly gathering up the rope as 
Verena got up and flung its end out over the 
door. 

“No, no; I’ll never abase myself to her/^ was 
the only crumb of comfort Rose could gather 
as she dolefully put back the chair whereon she 
had been standing and slowly slunk away. She 


A MOST PRICKLY THISTLE. 279 

felt crushed, wounded and mortified to a degree 
that would have aroused Verena^s sympathies 
had she been at all aware of it. Sounds of cheer- 
ful voices came from the parlor; Eose fancied 
she heard herself called, and nervously hastened 
along the dim, unlighted corridor. Her eyes 
were so blinded with tears that she did not see 
how one coil of the rope was hanging in a long 
loop close to her feet. She wanted to reacli 
the yard to replace it, and began to run down- 
stairs rapidly. Just as she passed the landing 
of the second floor her feet became entangled; 
she plunged wildly forward and rolled down 
nearly the whole of the lower flight until she 
lay, quite stunned, within a few feet of Miss 
Almira ^s little room. Almira’s first thought 
was that the Hungarian had broken loose, and 
her cry of terror and surprise at finding poor 
Eose lying unconscious, her feet entangled in 
the meshes of a long rope, which she soon recog- 
nized as the new clothes-line, brought a crowd 
of scholars and servants to the spot. 


CHAPTER XVL 


VEREN A*S VAGARIES. 

W HEN Rose opened her eyes she was 
lying upon Miss Almira’s sofa; the 
^‘Dragon” and Miss Benson were 
rubbing her limbs and forehead, while the maids 
disentangled the rope and a mass of girlish 
heads peeped in at the door. She was not 
seriously hurt, but bruised and sore, scarcely 
able to speak. She lay still and heard her 
teachers’ wondering comments and saw Sophie 
Howard’s merry face grow grave with anxiety, 
and beheld Sophie Ursula shake her thick mane 
of auburn locks and dart forward, exclaiming, 
with a half-stifled laugh, Don’t blame her, poor 
child — you don’t know. Miss Benson, what a 
heroine we have here to-night!” 

Rose, apparently half-unconscious, felt 
immeasurably revived by these words; but her 
satisfaction greatly diminished, and she found 
it convenient to lie motionless and silent while 
the provoking ‘‘Little Bear” proceeded to 
inform the company of Rose’s desperate deter- 
mination to help Verena to escape. “And she 
oughtn’t to be scolded, for she has only tried to 
280 


VERENA^S VAGARIES, 


28J 


carry out some of the lessons about altruism, 
and heroism, and self-sacrifice which Miss Clive 
is forever talking about, went on this young 
rogue of a Thistle, with a most exemplary 
gravity that nearly upset the other girls. 
‘‘Sophie Howard and I protested, but it was 
no use.^^ 

“Then she^s better than any of you, poor 
little dear!^’ Almira exclaimed with an enthu- 
siasm that encouraged Rose to languidly raise 
her eyelids and beg that Verena might be 
released at once. 

“She^s not worth thinking about until you 
have been attended to, dear,^^ was Miss Ben- 
son ^s evasive answer; and Rose, secretly much 
consoled for her unsuccessful expedition and 
her tumble by being made a heroine, was helped 
upstairs, and put to bed. She was so bruised 
and aching the next morning that her teachers 
judged it prudent to keep her in the dormitory, 
and Verena, hearing from Miss Almira how 
the child had got into trouble for her sake, 
rewarded that lady’s final appeal to her con- 
science by uttering a sort of indefinite admis- 
sion of regret for her conduct, though she 
stiffly refused to make Elisabeth any apology. 

Her guardians were weary of lecturing her; 
so, being, as it were, released upon parole, she 
kept comparatively quiet for some time, feeling 
extremely dull, though she was not unhappy 


282 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


and certainly never wished herself at home 
again. She tried Sophie Ursula for a com- 
panion, but soon found that the Little Bear was 
a very determined young lady, quite averse to 
letting anyone take the lead, as Verena liked 
to do. Sophie was uncommonly shrewd, not 
at all sentimental, and saw through or laughed 
at Verena occasional self-betrayal into flights 
of wild fancy in a way which secretly provoked 
the Hungarian almost beyond endurance. The 
school library was pretty soon exhausted by this 
precocious Thistle, who devoured every fairy 
tale, read through many works by Miss Yonge 
and Miss Sewell with great interest and incredi- 
ble rapidity, tried a celebrated American juve- 
nile, but soon flung it down ; and finally plunged 
deep into a large edition of Mrs. Hemans’ 
Poems, one of Miss Clive’s favorite pieces de 
resistance for poetry lovers among the younger 
girls, whom she wisely deemed too young to be 
allowed to rove at will among the pathless wilds 
of Eobert Browning, to whom ‘‘Aurora Leigh” 
was still forbidden fruit, and who only were, 
as yet, permitted to enter the magic realms of 
Shakespeare, Tennyson, Byron and Elizabeth 
Barrett Browning for an occasional brief tour, 
under her own especial escort. These prohibi- 
tions, however, did not avail much in Verena ’s 
case, as she had already, at home, wandered 
far and wide among a host of books, often 


VERENA^S VAGARIES. 


283 


betraying an intimate acquaintance with many 
works of poetry and romance which startled 
her teachers, amused herself, and called forth 
anew the whispers about Elsie Venner” 
among the girls. 

Eose, still hanging round Verena, one day 
lighted upon her German copy of ^ ‘ Sintram 
and His Companions,’’ and, puzzling over the 
title, mistook ‘‘Gefahrten” (companions) for 
‘‘Gefahren” (dangers), gravely insisting that 
^‘Sintram and His Dangers” made excellent 
sense; while the Little Bear raised a laugh 
by saying that it certainly made sense, 
for that anyone, especially Eose, might see 
that companions was often synonymous with 
dangers at school. Verena herself seemed 
fated to get into trouble even when alone. 
Like Kate, she often felt an absolute need for 
solitude, and would hide away from the others 
behind the cedars, or, taking a book, would 
climb up to the top of a strong wooden trellis 
covered by a thick grape vine, and revel in the 
airy quiet of her perch among the clustering 
leaves. Descending one afternoon from her 
unsuspected retreat, she had hardly begun to 
return towards the house, her head still full of 
a wild medley of poetry and romance, before 
she was startled by the sight of Elisabeth Arm- 
strong’s grave and disapproving face as she 
drew near. 


284 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


“Verena Forster,’’ she began, in her abrupt 
hard tone that always roused in the girls a 
spirit of opposition. was looking for you. 
I came to tell you that I have received a letter 
from Kate — here it is, if you wish to read it. 
I wish to tell you, also, that Mrs. Leslie writes 
to me that Kate is behaving remarkably well, 
thanks to her being removed from bad com- 
pany, and that I hope you will have sense 
enough, when she returns, to avoid trying to 
lead her into any of your own silly, childish, 
unpardonable tricks. ’ ’ 

Verena, thus dashed down suddenly from her 
beloved region of fancy, her heart sore with the 
contrast between her ideal world and the hard 
realities of school, felt very angry and curtly 
replied, ‘‘Keep the letter for yourself. She has 
written more to me than to you, and” 

“You are a bad girl, Verena Forster,” Elisa- 
beth went on, standing in front of her intended 
victim, and growing more indignant every 
moment ; while the Hungarian, though irritated, 
felt also rather amused at this awkward 
attempt at a scolding on the part of a fellow- 
pupil. “You are utterly wild and insubor- 
dinate. You cannot be rebuked without begin- 
ning to defend yourself, instead of being gentle, 
and humble, and” 

“Gentle and humble, indeed!” cried Verena, 
with flashing eyes. “Much gentleness and 


VERENA'S VAGARIES. 


285 


humility we see in you! You’re just the most 
stuck-up, unpopular, insufferable prig in school. 
You’re absorbed in your books and affect to 
despise us, when all the time we’re laughing 
at you. ’ ’ 

''Speak for yourself,” said Elisabeth, 
haughtily. "Whatever your own silly set may 
say is of no consequence ; and a half -crazy girl 
like you” 

"I’d rather have my madness than your 
sense!” cried Verena, almost transported with 
fury as she glared up into her tall antagonist’s 
face. It was only by the most violent effort 
and by vividly picturing to herself the conse- 
quences, that she was able to refrain from 
striking her; as it was, she confronted Elisa- 
beth, quivering in every limb, while the latter 
went on : 

"It is not for myself that I care at all; but 
you have always set Kate a very bad example, 
and you very well know it.” 

"And you know very well that it’s not love 
for Kate, but only your own atrocious pride that 
makes you care,” Verena screamed in turn. 
"You are a by-word in school for not loving 
her ! You snub her, and scold her, and try to 
cheapen whatever she does that she gets praised 
for, and you pretend it’s sisterly interest when 
we all see that it ’s part of your own abominable 
pride and self-conceit, because you can’t bear 


286 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


that anyone who is related to yon shouldn’t be 
as prim, and priggish, and hateful as yourself. 
Don’t begin now with any humbug. We all saw 
how jealous you were when Kate got up her 
play, because you couldn’t have done it your- 
self. You kept sneering, and criticising, and 
would have liked to put it down — but you 
couldn’t; and you can’t keep Kate down, either; 
she’s worth a dozen such prigs as you, and 
everybody knows she has far more in her than 
you have, even though you get high marks for 
knowing your lessons — and you can’t frighten 
me with your airs, I can tell you.” 

^^If I can’t frighten you, somebody else can !” 
cried Elisabeth, in a rage, for the Hungarian 
had uttered most unpleasant truth. ‘Wou had 
better look out. Your character here is not 
quite high enough for you to indulge in such 
talk; and some day you’ll find it out. Oh, you 
needn’t stamp, and clench your fists, and get up 
high tragedy — here, among your miserable, 
sentimental books that you read, and get Kate 
to read, instead of something useful, which 
would cultivate your minds. You’re not what 
a girl of your age ought to be, as Miss Clive 
told Kate that day when you were all caught in 
such a silly scrape — a girl old enough to be con- 
firmed — a fine pair of candidates you and she 
would make just now! You care only for 
childish things, When I was your age” 


VERENA^S VAGARIES* 


287 


^ ‘ When you were my age, of course you were 
everything prim, and proper, and detestable. 
I’ll own your superiority in the way of boast- 
ing!” yelled Verena, clutching at the bars of 
the trellis from which she had recently 
descended in order to prevent herself from 
flinging one of the miserable, sentimental 
books” at Elisabeth’s head. Half beside her- 
self as she was, there yet seemed something 
irresistibly ludicrous in the thought of using 
either ^‘Sintram,” or Mrs. Hemans’ Poems, or 
^‘The Sandliills of Jutland” for such a pur- 
pose ; and she burst into a hysterical laugh. 

^^When I was your age, I lived in peace and 
harmony with my teachers, and never tried to 
make trouble,” Elisabeth rejoined, truthfully 
enough, but with her lofty air; whereat the 
Hungarian exclaimed, ^ ‘ Then you have altered, 
for you don’t seem to care much about not 
making trouble now! Go, and tell them every 
word I said; do, for it was you who began it. 
Go!” And, hugging her books still tighter, 
Verena cut short the quarrel by running away, 
indulging in a peal of mocking laughter which, 
as soon as she reached the house, out of sight 
of her enemy, gave place to a flood of bitter 
tears. Elisabeth walked slowly on, exceedingly 
angry at the wild Magyar ’s home thrusts, which 
had pierced even her armor of self-esteem, but 
quite confident in her own superiority, and 


288 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


fancying that her unprovoked attack had been 
the fulfilment of a pressing duty. 

The warm evening was spent out of doors. 
Miss Benson, missing girl after girl from the 
group on the porch (where she was trying to 
direct the conversation’’ in a ponderous and 
instructive manner), went in search, and came 
upon an eager audience on the seats under the 
trees. Verena, erect and graceful, stood on the 
swing, reciting a condensed hut most vivid and 
dramatic version of the story of Sintram, in 
very fluent and poetic English, to Eose and 
another child crouching at her feet, as she 
slowly rocked to and fro in accompaniment, 
often venting her emotion at the more stirring 
parts by ^‘working up” until she nearly touched 
the houghs, while the moonlight, streaming 
between the tops of the cedars, fell upon her 
dark hair and pale, enthusiastic face. Miss 
Benson, making sure that there was nothing 
worth interfering with, returned to the porch, 
quite indifferent to the wild story which cap- 
tivated the girls, and wondering, as she caught 
a glimpse of poor Almira, half-hidden by a 
spreading tree, listening and sometimes drying 
her eyes, how on earth a middle-aged person 
could cafe to waste time upon such things. She 
was too devoid herself of imagination to com- 
prehend how the hard-worked under-teacher, 
from amid her grim round of duties, looked at 


VERENA^S VAGARIES. 


289 


the foreign pupil as somehow the embodiment 
of a far-off beauty which Almira had all her 
life been vaguely longing for and never real- 
ized, tilled, as she was at heart, with a hidden 
vein of ideality that had been sorely crushed 
by her surroundings and by the chill influences 
of her girlhood in her Puritan New England 
home. 

It was a relief to all when Madame Verrier 
returned and received from Queen Bess,’^ 
about to leave for a brief tour with her uncle, 
a voluntary resignation of the authority she 
had so unskillfully tried to wield. A few of 
the pupils whose homes were at a distance, and 
who made short excursions with friends for 
their vacation, now began to appear at Mount 
Cedar; but things still remained rather too 
quiet to suit Verena, who, like Kate, was never 
so well or so happy as when she was in excited 
pursuit of something. Nobody seemed dis- 
posed for any more acting, and even a sugges- 
tion tliat they should get up an impromptu mas- 
querade fell unheeded; so that the Hungarian 
one rainy evening contrived to create a com- 
motion and to bring herself and Sophie Howard 
into hot water by the hackneyed mischief of 
pretending to raise a ghost. ' Caught by Miss 
Benson and the Dragon in the lumber garret, 
where they had produced a sensation resulting 
in too many squeals of tragic-comic terror from 


19 


290 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR 


an excited audience, the would-be ghost 
(Sophie, draped in a sheet in which she had 
risen from an empty barrel, in spectral 
majesty) and necromancer (Verena, arrayed 
as a wizard, with robe, wand from the gymna- 
sium and other appropriate belongings, but dis- 
covered ignominiously cowering inside one of 
the empty barrels rolled on its side when the 
teachers entered; while the spectators dived 
down behind boxes wherever they could find a 
refuge, soon betrayed by their very audible 
giggling), after a lecture upon ‘^childishness and 
folly’’ from Miss Benson, were sentenced to 
exclusion from a picnic which Madame had 
promised them for the next day. 

Sophie grumbled, but submitted pretty 
quietly. Verena secretly enjoyed the unwonted 
peace and stillness of the house after the others 
were gone, with only Miss Almira left in 
charge. The Dragon kept up rather a sharp 
lookout upon the culprits during the long morn- 
ing, but their virtuous meekness gradually led 
her to relax her vigilance, and by the middle of 
the hot, languid afternoon the drowsy air had 
lulled her into a profound slumber in an arm- 
chair in the parlor. Sophie was already nod- 
ding over some book; and Verena, thankful to 
have her quiet, sat devouring “The Marsh 
King’s Daughter,” growing so excited over it 
that she could not keep still any longer. No 


VERENA^S VAGARIES. 


291 


orders had been given for staying indoors, and 
she noiselessly slipped out into the garden. It 
was towards sunset; the sky had become over- 
cast; all the trees stood motionless. 

Verena ran as far from the house as possi- 
ble, rejoicing in being for once all alone, able to 
rove, sing, recite poetry to herself, fling her 
arms in ecstasy round the prickly boughs of the 
fir trees, and give vent to her poetic fancies 
without a crowd of girls looking on and wonder- 
ing. The Hungarian, it must be owned, some- 
times irritated her schoolmates by refusing to 
join in some of their pastimes, which appeared 
to her both poor and dull and meaningless 
compared with the absorbing visions of her 
brain, pardonably if somewhat proudly con- 
scious that it was her own superior sensitive^ 
ness to everything beautiful and poetic which 
prevented her from being able to immerse her- 
self in other persons^ interests and take pleas- 
ure in every common thing. Verena ’s indi- 
viduality was too strong for her to suppress 
it without a struggle which destroyed all hap- 
piness. It always mattered to her what she 
did; she could not yield her own wishes with- 
out acute, if hidden, suffering; while many of 
the other girls gained credit for being ‘‘so 
amiable’’ because they hardly }iad any very 
pronounced tastes, and rather liked to follow 
the lead of somebody, like little Brownie, now 


292 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


returned to sdiool. She had no imagination, 
whereas V erena delighted to dream and to 
fancy herself one of the personages in any 
story she had been reading, and, still thinking 
of Helga, the viking’s wild adopted daughter, 
climbed up a trellis and made a wreath of vine 
leaves for her dark locks, singing and wander- 
ing on. 

The low leaden thunder clouds had settled 
down across the west till only a bar of pale, 
clear sky shone out beneath, with a strange 
gleaming light. Long heavy folds of dark 
vapor hung along the south ; the trees and fields 
wore a ghastly hue of yellow-green below the 
lurid sky, against which every bush and flower 
and blade of grass on the hilltop stood out with 
unnatural distinctness. Verena exulted in the 
gloom, and hush, and expectancy all around. 
Her own hot, throbbing life seemed to draw 
in a sense of fullness and expression from this 
silent brooding nature waiting for the storm. 
She could not put it into words, but there was 
something in this wild evening light, in the 
grayness and stillness that almost intoxicated 
her with a sense of weird enjoyment, which she 
thought not one of her schoolmates except Kate 
Armstrong could have understood, and which 
would have made all her teachers, save Frau 
Schulze (whose absence during the vacation 
made her feel alone among strangers), deem 


VERENA^S VAGARIES. 


293 


her almost mad if they had seen her running 
along the hilltop, with streaming, leaf-crowned 
hair, waving her arms towards the threatening 
sky, and singing snatches of Hungarian songs 
to music of her own. 

One glimpse from a window at the darkening 
landscape would have sufficed to kindle her 
strange ecstasy ; but here, alone on the free hill- 
top, where the long grass was bending in the 
rising wind and the pine trees rustled, every 
moment fed her sense of joy and wonder. She 
could not stand still, could not go back to the 
house; and, scarcely pausing to consider, ran 
down past the kitchen garden, quite ‘^out of 
bounds, till she, swiftly hastening on over a 
few meadows, past some scattered dwellings, 
gained the bank of the river and looked out 
along the dull gray water reflecting the dark 
sky. 

The storm seemed to be going round in another 
direction, but a strong breeze was blowing from 
the west. Between her and the half -bright sun- 
set rose an arched bridge; three figures stood 
out upon it against the low streak of light. One 
was a lady, the second a grave-looking, tall, 
slight girl of fifteen, and the third a girl of 
about the size of Sophie Ursula, and not unlike 
her in general appearance as she leaned upon 
the stone parapet, her thick auburn hair waving 
in the wind, and her bright purple dress shining 


294 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


in that yellow gleam from the horizon. Her hat, 
lying on the stonework, was newly adorned with 
a huge bunch of purple Scotch thistles, while 
another fresh bunch was in her hand. With- 
out being pretty, she attracted Verena, and she 
lingered on the bank, glancing up at her face, 
feeling what romantic persons call a drawing 
towards her, wishing that she would speak. 

A sound of merry voices came from east- 
ward. Verena started as a large boat, rowed 
by Sandy and two other men, floated into sight, 

A bright flag fluttered from its stern, around 
which were seated Madame Verrier, Miss Ben- 
son and their group of pupils, uniting in a song 
that every few moments seemed to break down 
for want of some one to supply the singers’ 
scanty knowledge of the words. 

Verena, however, knew it. Glad of the 
opportunity for a surprise, she slipped behind 
the bushes, and, at the next failure, astonished 
the whole boatload, now just opposite to her 
hiding-place, by breaking out with the right 
verse, in her rich voice. Madame started and 
exclaimed, thinking it an echo, while Sophie 
Ursula, who had recognized the singer, declared 
it must, in that case, be similar to the famous 
echo which the Irishman boasted would return 
to ‘ ‘ How are you ! ” a ‘ Wery well, I thank you. ’ ’ 

Brownie, inconveniently candid, as usual, per- 
sisted that she knew it was Verena ’s voice, and 


VERENA^ VAGARIES. 


295 


Madame, quite excited, ordered Sandy to stop 
the boat. Further discussion was prevented 
by the Hungarian suddenly appearing from 
behind the bushes as if stepping forth upon the 
stage, her crown of vine leaves on her hair, 
singing the remainder of the song; while the 
girls kept silent that they might enjoy the notes 
of a voice which, in its strength and pathos, 
with a wild thrill of sadness suddenly breaking 
through its passion, so far excelled any of their 
own. 

‘^Mais, ma chere petite, que faites-vous ici- 
basF’ cried Madame in dismay, quite at a loss 
what to do. Leaving Verena to go home alone 
was out of the question, while the most natural 
plan of taking her into the boat was rendered 
difficult by the want of a proper landing-place 
upon that bank ; and the puzzled teachers began 
to hold a council. 

Verena, of course enjoying the sensation, 
contrived to prolong it by various acts of 
diablerie, threatening to jump into the water 
and swim out to the boat, which everyone knew 
she was perfectly able to do, in case they would 
not take her in by coming as near as possible 
to the high bank, whence she might leap among 
them. During this discussion she was agree- 
ably conscious of the eager and sympathetic 
eyes of the girl in the purple dress, who seemed 
to be a sort of silent friend and ally, sure to be 


296 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

congenial both to herself and Kate, and whose 
half-heard comments upon the scene, caught at 
intervals amid the noise of tongues, and pool-, 
worried Madame ^s ejaculations, seemed in keep- 
ing with her interesting face. The elder girl 
and the lady looked on with an expression of 
surprise mingled with disapprobation; but the 
younger one, when the boat finally drew as near 
as was practicable, leaned over so far that her 
hat, thistles and all, fell upon the lap of Sophie 
Ursula, who, looking up, said afterwards that 
she was almost startled at seeing a girl so like 
herself bending down a laughing face, appar- 
ently delighted when the Little Bear, rising, 
waved the hat aloft, inquiring what to do. 

Throw it over to me and I’ll run up with 
it,” put in Verena,'glad of an opportunity for 
speaking to the stranger; and Sandy, stretch- 
ing his arms as far as possible, did manage 
to get the hat over to where Verena stood. 
Eagerly seizing it, she rushed up to the bridge, 
meeting her new friend half-way, and exclaim- 
ing, ^‘May I keep a thistle?” 

‘‘The whole bunch if you like,” said the girl, 
with a cheery smile. “How stupid of me 
to drop thistles almost on persons’ heads, 
and ’ ’ 

“Margaret!” broke in the lady from above, 
‘ ‘ you are very much indebted to the young lady ; 
and you should have kept your hat on your 
head.” 


VERENA^S VAGARIES. 


297 


The chilling tone seemed to vex the girl ; but 
she spoke a few words of thanks, and walked 
down, hat in hand, to the spot whence Verena, 
holding the desired thistles, was lifted by the 
strong-armed Sandy into the boat, somewhat 
to her regret, as she would have preferred leap- 
ing in and shocking the lady up yonder, with 
her stiff, disapproving daughter. 

Margaret stood wistfully looking after the 
merry girls as the boat pushed out into the 
stream and shot swiftly along. Verena and the 
Little Bear looked back at her till out of 
sight, then exchanged slight, expressive nods. 
Madame deferred a rebuke until she should 
reach home (her wrath, indeed, was purely for 
formas sake on this especial occasion, since the 
culprit had her secret sympathy), and Verena 
keenly enjoyed the sail along the river in the 
twilight. It was worth while, even if she were 
to be scolded. The low, yellow bar of cold, sad 
light still shone out from underneath the canopy 
of heavy cloud; a cool breeze blew across the 
dark gray water. The river wound between 
high, elder-covered banks and sloping meadows ; 
each sudden turn showed some new glimpse of 
darkling landscape or dusky trees against the 
sky that stirred the Hungarian girPs artist- 
nature to its core and made her feel impatient 
at the indifference of her companions, their 
commonplace talk about the smaller incidents 


298 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


of their day in the woods, the games they had 
played, their dinner on the grass. Oh, that she 
had words or colors to express the sombre 
beauty all around, that fairly weighed upon 
her with its mystery and fullness ! 


CHAPTER XVII. 


OUR NEW SCOTCH THISTLE. 

E arly August found Kate Armstrong 
speeding by rail back to school, divided 
between regret at parting from her kind 
English friends and relief at having her long 
visit over and being able to return to the girls, 
and the stir, and the frisky freedom she so 
dearly loved. And thus her parting tears, 
though plenteous and sincere, were dried in 
time for her to enjoy a final glimpse of the 
splendid panorama of Quebec upon its citadel- 
crowned height ; and when they had crossed the 
river and were dashing through the wild 
Canadian pine forests, she felt her heart expand 
and thrill with a new, delicious sense of secret 
happiness. 

Her traveling companion was a gentle, quiet 
elderly lady, who did not expect her to talk 
much, but left her to revel in peace in her own 
strange, dreamy enjoyment. The whole long 
journey was a romantic idyl to Kate, who had 
traveled that way before, but never, as now, in 
the very heart of summer bloom and richness. 
She loved to sit for hours silently looking out at 

299 


300 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


the landscape incessantly shifting before her 
far-sighted eyes that took in the whole sweep 
of the country to the horizon. The noise and 
motion of the train seemed to stimulate her 
fancy; she often looked hack to wild snatches 
of song and fragments of fiction as having first 
occurred to her while she was being whirled 
along past fields of Indian corn in its full 
splendor of silken tassels and glistening leaves, 
or as they dashed across some viaduct, with the 
low landscape sloping away on either side, and 
far-off glimpses of hills and trees against the 
line of sky. It was nearly sunset when she 
arrived at the end of her journey, rejoicing to 
catch sight of the school omnibus drawn up near 
the station, where she found Miss Clive and 
several girls prepared to await a train which 
was to bring hack three or four pupils from 
an opposite direction. Kate flung down her 
bag and rushed into Verena^s arms with as 
much gladness as if she were beginning a holi- 
day visit instead of ending one. She fairly 
wrung old Jake’s black horny hand, and but 
for the ‘‘General’s” presence would have 
bestowed abundant caresses upon his especial 
darlings, the pair of fine gray mules that drew 
the omnibus. It did not surprise her, as Miss 
Clive went to speak to the station master, to see 
the Little Bear quietly slipping up to her long- 
eared friends for a sly patting of their sleek 


OUR NEW SCOTCH THISTLE. 301 

necks, while Kate herself was simultaneously 
pounced upon by several Thistles, including 
Fanny, who had returned from her trip a day 
or two before. 

The Bear must have fancied Miss Clive was 
about to rebuke her, Kate thought, for she 
reappeared among them with marvelous sud- 
denness, giving her a sort of stage hug over one 
shoulder; while the others burst into appar- 
ently unaccountable peals of laughter, renewed 
as, to Kate’s utter bewilderment, the next 
moment Sophie Ursula, or her wraith, appeared 
from the direction of the omnibus. 

^‘Sophie! Are you a Doppelgdngerf^^ cried 
Kate, mystified; while the merriment redoubled 
and the girl whom she had believed to be the 
Little Bear released her and stepped back to 
where she could gaze at both. 

^ ^ We told her to puzzle you, ’ ’ laughed Verena. 
knew you would be taken in. And I am 
deposed from my position as the new girl. 
This is the latest addition to our school, and 
our class — our new Scotch Thistle, Miss Mar- 
garet Gordon, who was so eager to be trans- 
planted into such congenial soil that she couldn’t 
wait for the holidays to be over.” 

Miss Clive’s reappearance caused the con- 
versation to become somewhat less jocular ; but 
the main facts were as follows : The new Thistle 
was the girl whose hat had dropped from the 


302 


THE THISTLES OF MOLTNT CEDAR. 


bridge into Sophie Ursula’s lap, while the 
Scotch blood was but a matter of descent. Her 
grandmother, an old lady living not far from 

C , had recently fallen into such ill-health 

that Margaret’s mother had gone to take care 
of her, and, finding that her only daughter 
required more supervision than she now could 
give, and pined for companionship, had agreed 
to the girl’s own suggestion that she should 
go to Mount Cedar on trial for the remainder 
of the holidays, with the prospect of staying if 
the school appeared to suit her. The new home 
at her grandmother’s seemed dreary, spite of 
the pleasant house and lovely garden ; her 
father and brother had gone on a trip to Cali- 
fornia, and Margaret felt wildly exhilarated 
by her sudden plunge into an atmosphere of 
merry girlhood after the rather heavy visit she 
had just made to some cousins in the neigh- 
borhood, where her companion, the grave-look- 
ing young lady whom Verena had seen upon 
the bridge, had proved far too staid and mature 
for the frisky guest, only one year her junior. 
The main thing that captivated the Thistles was 
the newcomer’s strong general resemblance to 
Sophie Ursula, so that they looked like sisters. 
Margaret, although just the age of Verena and 
Kate, was of the size of the Little Bear, with 
the same blonde, reddish coloring and gray 
eyes, though the Bear had somewhat the 


OUR NEW SCOTCH THISTLE. 303 

advantage as regarded features, and was 
destined to grow up the prettier of the two. In 
their school uniforms this resemblance reached 
its climax, and the jubilant Bear, as soon as 
they reached home, brimmed over to Kate with 
absurd anticipations of the jokes and amusing 
blunders likely to arise from her having, as 
she said, found her wished-for twin at last. 

‘‘Wedl get scolded for each other’s faults 
and make a grand fuss showing off our mag- 
nanimity by bearing blame for each other, like 
those high-flown good girls in the old-fashioned 
books. And, oh, Kate, she has spent two or 
three years in Europe, and had been all over 
Italy, and can tell us even more than Verena, 
and is just crazy about acting — she was asked 
to your play; it seems that Helen Palmer is 
some sort of far-off cousin, and begged Mrs. 
Hill to invite Margaret — and she says she 
longed to be upon the stage among us, and 
hopes you’ll persuade them to repeat the 
Kloster im Walde so as to give her a part. Oh, 
you may well feel jolly; you are back just in 
time ! Mrs. Hill’s birthday will come soon, and 
the ‘General’ means to get up a festival, with 
costumes, and national dances, and rhymes 
spoken by a train of Flower Spirits, and charm- 
ing fun.” 

Kate broke in with a torrent of questions, 
to the relief of Fanny and Verena, who had 


304 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


secretly felt some anxiety lest she should return 
in rather too grave and sedate a mood after the 
unwonted strain of several weeks among older 
persons. Fanny, indeed, had slyly prophesied 
that what she irreverently chose to term Mrs. 
Leslie’s attempts at coming the godmother” 
over Kate might result in her much-tried 
teachers being able to gather a few figs from 
her thistle for a while, and almost expected to 
see her calmed down and perhaps wishing her- 
self back among the Leslies once more. It is 
true that she felt an occasional longing after 
the motherly kindness and tender individual 
care she had left behind; but there was a wild 
relief in being again able to vent her fancies 
with Verena, pet the animals with Sophie 
Ursula, cultivate the promising Scotch 
Thistle,” whom she found decidedly congenial, 
and exchange her visiting character for the 
much less troublesome role she supported at 
Mount Cedar of a madcap Thistle, odd, talented, 
and unlike the other girls. 

‘ ‘ Kate, tell us one thing, ’ ’ began Fanny when 
they ran out into the garden after tea. “We’re 
just crazy to know whether you and that good- 
looking Leslie boy kept up that charming flirta- 
tion you began. ’ ’ 

“No,” said Kate sturdily, but flushed, and 
conscious that several pairs of piercing eyes 
were fixed upon her. “He was only there a 
day or two; he went otf with his brothei: for 


OUR NEW SCOTCH THISTLE. 305 

a trip somewhere; so I was spared the horrid 
bother of having to make talk to them.^^ 

So the threatened raillery was averted, and 
Kate resumed joyful possession of her alcove, 
which her friends had appropriately decorated 
with purple thistles and other wild-growing 
things she dearly loved. It may he added that 
they had long since quietly adopted and 
inscribed inside their desk-lids the Scotch 
motto, ^^Nemo me impune lacessit/^ to remind 
the public that nobody injured them with 
impunity. And the next morning came the 
pleasure of regaining her own desk, with its 
fanciful appendages hidden here and there, and 
copious store of well-used and well-bitten lead 
pencils, each one privately named after some 
pet gnome, goblin or kobold among its owner’s 
large stock of elfin acquaintances, according 
to what Kate insisted was the peculiar and 
individual expression of its crooked, blunted 
or clean-sharpened point. 

August suns, as ^^Foxey” observed, seemed 
to have ripened the luxuriant Thistles of Mount 
Cedar into their fullest purple bloom and prick- 
liness, so that it hardly surprised them, at first, 
to find Kate slightly less headstrong than 
usual and, under the infiuence of Mrs. Leslie’s 
teaching, drawing back from a few of their 
frolics. Valiantly, though with some regret, 


20 


306 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


resisting the temptation of joining sundry mad- 
caps in a raid upon the apple orchard, she betook 
herself one afternoon to her nook among the 
asparagus bushes, with her godmother ^s part- 
ing gift, a hook, carried hidden under the broad 
hat swung from her arm, eager to escape 
unseen. 

Kate had already finished half of ^^Tom 
Brown’s Schooldays,” and was now absorbed 
in the history of his friendship with Arthur, 
the interest, of course, being greatly enhanced 
by comparisons she could not help drawing 
between the Rugby boys’ adventures and those 
of the Thistles ; wishing, moreover, that a little 
of Dr. Arnold’s spirit could animate the Mount 
Cedar authorities. There was no one to whom 
she felt that she could go for counsel in any 
crisis of her inner life, as Harry East was 
described as going to Dr. Arnold — how she 
envied him for thus being able to seek his mas- 
ter in order to pour out his heart. 

^‘Crying — or very near it? Naughty child, 
have you a novel!” began ^‘Foxey,” as, with 
several others, she suddenly invaded the hiding- 
place of Kate, who instantly clasped the book 
in her arms so as to hide its title from their 
inquisitive eyes. 

‘^She has a good book, of course,” laughed 
Verena, with a secret pang of conscience. 
‘ ^ Perhaps it ’s a Bible — oh ! ’ ’ 


OUR NEV SCOTCH THISTLE. 


307 


‘^Verena, it is not a Bible!’’ screamed Kate, 
with crimson cheeks, as though accused of a 
quite unbearable amount of goodness. 

‘^Well, Goosey, and what harm would it be 
if it were ? ’ ’ asked Fanny, much amused. ‘ ^ Oh, 
you needn’t clutch it so tightly; we know well 
enough that Bibles aren’t bound in green; and 
if you won’t tell us what it is. I’ll guess it’s a 
novel not in our library, and that our sins in 
going after these apples are as nothing com- 
pared with yours in seeking after another kind 
of forbidden fruit.” 

Thus teased, Kate yielded up her book, which 
Fanny, after sundry characteristic observa- 
tions, pronounced to be the very thing for what 
they called ^‘reading in council.” ^‘And who 
knows but that it may help to convert your old 
friends just a little, as it seems to be doing 
with you.” 

‘‘I’m willing,” cried Kate, relieved and 
rather glad to make the book known among the 
girls. “Only don’t make me responsible for 
the preaching parts, mind ! ’ ’ Fanny promised, 
but the readings held by a set of merry This- 
tles did not come off, day after day, without 
a sufficient share of giddy mirth and thought- 
less banter that often made Kate wince under 
Fanny’s very undisguised parallels between Dr. 
Arnold’s pupils and those of Miss Clive, which 
opened a fine field for sly sarcasm and school- 
girl wit. 


308 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

^‘Kate takes it too seriously, as she does 
everything she cares for,^^ answered ^^Foxey’’ 
in private to Verena’s slight protest against 
making fun of their friend’s hobbies. ‘‘You 
know I don’t mean any harm; only, as you 
remember Frau Schulze said not long ago, I 
seem to have fallen into the position of the 
critic and esprit fort of our class — and you are 
the talented, interesting young foreigner, whom 
nobody can put down — and ‘ Cornelia Mary 
Freeman’ is a specimen of what I might call the 
muscular Christianity of our school, though I’m 
afraid the muscularity decidedly outweighs the 
other just now. And Kate — well, perhaps you 
may have read something about those wonderful 
Gordons. I mean that Kate, being a descendent 
of that clan, can never be expected to keep 
quiet or to do things by halves — and now that 
she has a new ally in our delightful ‘Scotch 
Thistle,’ we may be very sure of seeing her 
burst out into more than her old friskiness 
before long. Just now, of course, she’s 
bewitched by Tom Brown — it’s a charming 
book — and, if Virginia Leslie were here, she 
would be Kate’s ‘Arthur,’ and Kate herself 
would enjoy trying to act the reformed Tom, 
with me, I suppose, for ‘East,’ unless you pre- 
ferred assuming that character, as conversion 
is considered desirable in your quarter.” 

“If you’ll find somebody like Dr. Arnold to 


OUR NEW SCOTCH THISTLE. 309 

rule over us, 1^11 undertake to be ^converted’ 
fast enough, ’ ^ growled the Hungarian, irritated, 
though amused, by ^‘Foxey’s^’ home thrusts 
and secretly thankful that Fanny’s absence had 
prevented her from knowing anything about 
her own haunting fits of compunction when she 
was reciting ^^Sintram” or reading allegories. 

But Fanny’s prophecies, as usual, proved 
true; for Kate’s transient tinge of soberness 
was speedily banished by the exciting occupa- 
tion soon assigned to her of composing rhymes 
(with Margaret as a collaborator) to be 
spoken by the train of flower spirits who were 
to bring floral tributes to Mrs. Hill, while Miss 
Clive, attired as a Spanish senora, was to open 
the masque by an address in verse to a select 
invited audience. Poor Dorinda was to sup- 
port a character, while Madame Vender, dressed 
as a marquise, actually persuaded Mrs. Hill 
for once to undergo a like transformation at 
her skilful hands. Herr Schulze, only too glad 
to take part in the frolic, and, like so many of 
his countrymen, still a boy at heart, appeared 
in a marvelous old black gown and square velvet 
cap, dating from his professorial days in the 
Fatherland, which, with some slight additional 
ornamentation of his burly form, he declared 
to have metamorphosed him into no less a per- 
sonage than Hr. Martin Luther; while the 
Frau, determined not to be outdone, had impro- 


3J0 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


vised what she considered a fitting costume 
for the staid Katharina von Bora. Word 
having somehow reached the Professor that 
sundry Thistles bitterly regretted that they 
might not carry out the joke further by dressing 
up one of their number, or, better still, old Jake, 
to represent the Devil at whom Dr. Luther flung 
his inkstand, Herr Schulze appeared bearing 
an ancient and gigantic inkstand, of most out- 
landish make, which he in solemn rhyme dis- 
played as the genuine article once used in 
putting the Evil One to flight. 

The ‘ ‘ Scotch Thistle, ’ ’ meanwhile, had struck 
up such a close friendship with the Little Bear 
and with Kate that Fanny (to whom Verena 
now attached herself more than ever) insisted 
that the trio ought to be called the Pearl of 
Pure Wisdom,’’ because the names, Katharine, 
Margaret, and Sophia respectively signified 
purity, a pearl and wisdom; which was hailed 
with shouts of laughter by the Thistles, 
including the heroines of the jest, whose present 
behavior, indeed, might be taken, as Dickens 
would say, ^Ln a contrairy sense,” so far as 
wisdom was concerned. Much of this was 
doubtless owing to the fact that Margaret’s 
spirits during her foreign tour had been unduly 
repressed by a series of German and English 
governesses, while her amusingly realistic 
accounts of the previous winter, spent in Rome, 


OUR NEW SCOTCH THISTLE* 3U 

where she herself and some Scotch cousins 
shared the blessings of a strict Caledonian 
instructress, served to shatter many of Kate’s 
visions of the delights of a residence abroad. 
“You would not think it so fine if you never 
dared to go out one step alone, and were forever 
being lectured about your tastes, and told not 
to pet animals — yes, Sophie, you may well 
groan ! — and have your reading limited to just 
certain heavy books and childish tales, nothing 
you really cared for. ’ ’ 

Little Eose Gordon, who, though not related 
to Margaret, did not at all belie the reputation 
of that famous clan for dash and boldness, and 
was devotedly attached, not only to the Hun- 
garian, but to the “Pearl of Pure Wisdom,” 
soon became their follower in mischief, as will 
be seen. 


CHAPTEE XVIII. 


AN ESCAPADE, 


FINE piece of work! Earning pitch- 



forks — and we four ever so far from 


^ ^ home, and all wet, and iPs nearly dark, 

and we can’t possibly get back before the hell 
rings, and we’re in for a time of it!” growled 


Kate. 


Margaret, Verena and Eose, who would not 
be left behind, had incited Kate one sultry 
afternoon to an expedition in pursuit of certain 
pears and apples belonging to the establish- 
ment, which, having dropped from the boughs, 
they somewhat rashly considered their lawful 
prey, better employed in ministering to their 
own eager appetites, then and there, than being 
left to be picked up by Sandy, to figure as pie 
or preserves in the uncertain future. (The 
Little Bear, it must be said, had been debarred 
from joining them by the sad fact that she was 
behindhand with her arithmetic, and compelled 
to spend a great part of the afternoon in doing 
some sums which, had she been less intent upon 
nonsense during the morning, might have been 
finished long before.) Having gathered as 


312 


AN ESCAPADE. 


3J3 


much as their skirts would hold, they deemed it 
wise to retire to enjoy themselves in safety in 
a field adjoining the orchard, whence, being 
already ‘ ‘ out of bounds, ’ ’ they quickly departed 
for a rambJe along the highroad until, with some 
faint remonstrances from little Kose, but great 
general enjoyment, they reached the outskirts 
of the town, and proceeded to invest in candy at 
a small shop much honored by custom from 
the school. 

Fate, however, had punishment in store for 
the delinquents nearer at hand than Mount 
Cedar, for, while hastening back with full 
pockets, guilty consciences and uneasy minds 
beneath a threatening sky, they were caught 
by a sudden heavy shower at some distance 
from any dwelling, and compelled to seek 
shelter under a tree by the roadside, where a 
few minutes sufficed to bring the straw hats, 
linen dresses and leather shoes into a most 
woeful plight. 

^^Sit down, Eose, on that big root, and we’ll 
try to stand so as to keep the rain off you, ’ ’ went 
on Kate, who, to do her justice, felt more con- 
cerned for the child than for herself. ^‘No; 
you’re right. We’re drenched, and behind 
time, and in for a scrape now. ’ ’ 

‘‘Lucky if we’re not in for a siege of sickness 
after all those apples and this sousing,” 
laughed Verena, almost elated at the prospect 


3J4 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


of a scrape in congenial company, instead of 
a solitary one at home. 

^‘Tlie candy ^s all wet and gummed together,” 
moaned Eose, feeling in her pocket. ^^Ten 
cents’ worth in one horrid, sticky mass. Too 
bad!” 

couldn’t run now to that house over yon- 
der in these dripping clothes, not even if the 
Dragon were at my heels,” put in Margaret. 
^‘But I don’t want to have my name sent home 
as figuring in a scrape so soon; and we must 
manage to wade back before teatime, somehow. ’ ’ 

Eose sighed; even Verena grew anxious; 
Kate, quite desperate, felt ready to insist upon 
plunging schoolwards through the storm and 
the fast-gathering darkness; while Margaret 
stepped forward from beneath the boughs in 
order to see whether there seemed any prospect 
of a slackening of the pouring rain. Just as 
she stood upon the brink of the road, looking 
in the direction of Mount Cedar, she gave a 
violent start, and astounded her companions in 
misfortune by darting back among them as if 
in terror, while the cause of her excitement 
became visible in the shape of a large closed 
carriage, slowly coming round a turn, in the 
heavy mud. Margaret dashed behind Kate, 
uttering a half -choked ‘^Oh, dear!” in such 
tones that Kate anxiously asked what on earth 
was the matter, 


AN ESCAPADE. 


3J5 


Matter! It’s Mrs. Livingstone’s carriage 
— from Maple Grove — she married my mother’s 
first cousin, you know, and I was spending a 
few days with them when I saw Verena and the 
girls in the boat. Matter! I shall be recog- 
nized and reported to my parents as being seen 
^out of bounds,’ and — oh, goodness, they’re 
going to stop ; what shall we do ? ” 

By this time the carriage was just opposite 
and had stopped, indeed. 

‘‘Margaret,” a clear, cold, rather hard but 
unmistakably ladylike voice called from the 
window, “what are you and your friends doing 
here ? ’ ’ 

“We were caught by the rain. Cousin Ger- 
trude,” simply answered Margaret, growing 
brave, now that she must face the situation in 
earnest. 

“Helen and I are going home,” resumed the 
lady, “it is too late for us to turn about and 
drive you back, as I should like to do, I fear. ’ ’ 

“We were just going to walk back,” 
exclaimed Margaret, wishing that they had set 
off, so as to avoid this awkward being “taken 
into custody” by her too solicitous cousin by 
marriage, who, after a brief parley with her 
daughter and the coachman, both of whom voted 
against turning round and going to Mount 
Cedar, opened the carriage door and bade the 
girls to get in, adding that she would be glad 


3J6 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


to take them to Maple Grove, dry their wet 
clothes, and send them home in an hour or two. 
Margaret, in despair, tried to decline the invita- 
tion, knowing that her friends in mischief would 
rather risk the muddy tramp homewards than, 
as Kate would have said, be taken as prisoners 
to a strange house and solemnly sent back so 
late that all possibility of concealment was out 
of the question. But Mrs. Livingstone, really 
reluctant to leave the shivering quartette of 
girls to venture home alone in the twilight, 
insisted upon acceptance of her olfer, so that 
in a few moments they were packed into tlie 
roomy carriage without more ado and covered 
over with shawls and rugs by their hostess, 
who, although suspecting an escapade, was 
careful to betray no idea of anything being 
wrong. Margaret, more worried than the 
others, subsided into the seat beside her cousins, 
saying as little as possible. Kate, horribly 
afraid of the scrape in store, which being car- 
ried to Maple Grove would hut intensify, since 
Mount Cedar would soon he ringing with their 
absence, hardly uttered a word. Eose, packed 
between Kate and Verena on the front seat, 
kept silently grasping a hand of each under the 
rug; while the Hungarian, more ready-tongued 
and less embarrassed than any, did her best 
to converse and be grateful for them all. 

Verena was the only one sufficiently at ease 


AN ESCAPADE. 


3J7 


to take a survey of their new friends when, 
the carriage having stopped, they were met 
at the door of a large house by a girl of 
eleven and an elderly nurse, in white cap and 
apron, who was appointed to take charge of 
Kate, Verena and Hose, leading them to a guest 
chamber upstairs, while poor Margaret was 
carried oft in another direction by Miss Helen, 
her grave young cousin. 

Mrs. Livingstone, having followed the trio, 
saw them divested of their wet shoes and frocks 
and wrapped for the nonce in shawls and 
dressing-gowns, when, telling them to keep quiet 
a little while and she would send some of her 
younger daughter’s clothes for them to put on 
until their own were dried, she left them in a 
condition of suppressed wonder and excitement^ 
not unmixed with dread. 

‘‘Too bad to carry off Margaret!” began 
Kate, whose dumbness vanished the moment 
she was left alone with her companions in mis- 
fortune. ‘ ‘ Poor girl, she knows we all need her 
to pilot us safely among her relatives ; and we 
know she must need us to stand between her 
and her cousins, and help to head off the charm- 
ing compliments one’s own family are so sure 
to give one as soon as strangers’ backs are 
turned. I’m certain she’s catching it now 
somewhere in this highly unexceptionable man- 
sion. Oh, girls (jumping up nervously and 


3(8 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


walking about in a long white wrapper that 
trailed behind her on the floor) — weVe fallen, 
I suppose, among good Samaritans, but I tell 
you one thing — we must keep a sharp lookout 
upon our P^s and Q’s in this house 

‘^They^re ‘serious^ people; I saw it in the 
first minute when I caught sight of Mrs. Living- 
stone and her daughter with Margaret on the 
bridge, and didn ^t know who any of them were, 
except that I felt sure that Margaret couldn’t 
possibly belong to them, unless as a cousin not 
very near. But dry clothes are dry clothes,” 
went on Verena, wrapping herself up in a shawl 
and comfortably leaning back in an arm-chair, 
‘‘and I’m thankful all the same, wherever they 
come from, aren’t you*?” 

Kose lay on a sofa looking on, silent, puzzled 
and sad. 

“Yes,” added Kate, completing her survey 
of the room. “I know. It’s like the Leslies’ 
house. Plenty of good books and Ary Schef- 
fer’s pictures. Well ! — I comprehend the situa- 
tion. I’ve got my role settled.” 

Verena answered with a half-smothered burst 
of laughter. 

“You had good practice in Canada, and can 
keep up your role of a good girl a little longer. 
Miss Helen is pretty, but, oh, such a grave, 
critical sort of face! No wonder poor Mar- 
garet had a dull visit here! Mind, girls, we’re 


AN ESCAPADE. 


3J9 


not to tell our ages unless we’re asked. If they 
fancy us younger, all the better. Yes, Kate, 
we ’re going to be very good little girls until we 
get home — and then?” 

‘‘I wish we were there now!” went on Kate. 
“We might have got back if we had tried. 
Here’s a photo of Helen; I’ve watched her for 
years in church ; they sit half-way up the middle 
aisle, and she was confirmed last spring, in a 
white pique dress, with her hair put up — I 
think no girl should be allowed to put up her 
hair until she leaves school. I can’t see the 
color of her eyes — Verena, give me that lamp.” 

“You young savage, to be handing round 
lamps in a strange house!” laughed Verena, 
as Kate held the shaded light close beneath the 
photo, while Eose looked on in agony lest she 
should break or set fire to something. “You 
are meek shyness itself before strangers, but 
the moment their backs are turned there’s no 
limit to your audacity. ’ ’ 

“I might fare better if I were more auda- 
cious,” said Kate. “Who was it said that 
Audacity, Loquacity and Voracity always 
helped one to get along in this wicked world? 
Oh, dear, to think how the “General” and all 
of them must be calling and searching for us 
everywhere! I hope they won’t give our 
alcoves a domiciliary visit and find sundry 
fruits and candies tucked away, and confiscate 
them, and” 


320 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


‘‘That reminds me,’^ broke in Eose; “the 
nurse who carried off onr frocks didn’t give us 
time to take the candy out of the pockets — oh ! ’ ’ 

“We’ll hope to have the candy restored to ns, 
dried along with the frocks; there’s no getting 
out of the scrape now,” said Verena boldly. 

Conversation was interrupted by the entrance 
of the said nurse bearing a pile of shoes and 
dresses, from which she begged the guests to 
select what might fit them best. In her wake 
followed Margaret, the sight of whom caused 
a spasmodic laugh, hardly stifled until the nurse 
had gone, closing the door. Margaret had left 
them looking altogether like a little girl, 
younger than her age, with short, wet skirt 
clinging round her knees. She now came in 
stumbling over the dress belonging to her 
cousin, who, though but fifteen, was very much 
taller than herself, and preferred to anticipate 
the long skirts of young ladyhood. 

“I feel like a caricature of the Kate Green- 
away style,” laughed Margaret, turning round. 
“It’s well the skirt hides my feet, since Helen’s 
shoes are as much too big for me as her dress. 
Here, let me help you to put on something — 
this one is about right for Eose, and you two 
can forage for yourselves. One thing, girls, 
I warn you not to say very much about 
our theatricals or Mrs. Hill’s birthday — ^though 
that was only a sort of extra lark, because 


AN ESCAPADE. 


32J 


the ^General/ for once, chanced to have come 
back in time for it. Cousin Charles wouldn’t 
mind ; he ’s nice and genial when he gets ‘ out of 
bounds’ and takes a run over to our house. 
But Cousin Gertrude — well! — and even Helen,” 
and she meaningly nodded in a way highly 
intelligible to her auditors, who laughed anew. 
^Hf I only could have passed my time here 
running about with Edith, dear little soul, it 
would have been charming. But, you see, I 
am so much nearer Helen’s age — she’s a 
million years older than I ever shall be — that 
she took me into severe custody, and wanted 
me to sit on the porch and read history with 
her, and do crochet work, and be a young lady. 
I hated it, and wanted to be out of doors, and 
gardening, and going down to the barn to see 
the animals, and the pussies — they don’t 
approve of cats in this house, except ‘in their 
proper place, ’ which, we know, means the 
kitchen or the stable — and jumping rope with 
Edith, and behaving like a child. So — you 
see, I don’t rank highly in this family, and you 
will have to rely on your own attractions to get 
you on. Verena, you look like the good girl in 
pious juveniles in that white dress. I hope for 
this evening, at least, you will ‘try to live up 
to it.’” 

“Yes, I know I do. Half the wickedness 
seems taken out of me.” 

2i. 


322 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


^‘Only halfr’ said Kate. ^^Then there must 
be plenty left. ^ ’ 

‘‘Now, Eose dear,’^ added Margaret, “don’t 
say too much about having run ‘out of bounds’ 
unless we’re absolutely obliged to. If they 
question us, we’ll own up to just as much of 
the candy business as is unavoidable; besides, 
there’s the candy in our pockets to betray us. 
I tried to slip out mine as I slipped otf my wet 
frock, but I hadn’t a chance. Don’t mention 
the apples; that’s unnecessary. You go first, 
Verena; you’re the boldest and know best bow 
to make conversation among strangers. ’ ’ 

These and other sage counsels did Margaret 
bestow upon her friends ere they went down- 
stairs in a condition wherein nervousness 
struggled with a wild determination to gain 
whatever satisfaction might be wrung out of 
this adventure before they should be taken 
home and brought to justice. No one who saw 
Kate’s utter shyness and shrinking into the 
background during that evening would have 
guessed her to be other than the essence of 
meekness and childish simplicity. Little Rose 
soon fell into quite a cheerful conversation with 
Edith in a corner; the only son of the house, 
being hut thirteen, and habitually kept down by 
mamma and his elder sister, naturally sat 
rather silent in the presence of so many strange 
girls, and scarcely opened his lips, save now and 


AN ESCAPADE. 


323 


then to smile somewhat furtively when Rose, 
emboldened by her young hostess’s manifest 
interest in all pertaining to Mount Cedar, ven- 
tured to give some slight hints of their most 
innocent diversions, without mentioning their 
transgressions. Margaret, being a relative, did 
not come in for much attention, and the laurels 
of the evening fell entirely to Verena, as she 
easily kept up a conversation with Mrs. Living- 
stone and Helen, cleverly avoiding all dan- 
gerous topics, and talking about her foreign 
schools, expressing an admiration of their 
strict discipline which won her the approbation 
of her hostess, who, while guessing her to he 
older than she looked, refrained from asking 
any embarrassing questions. 

Kate and Margaret, as they owned after- 
wards, did not dare to meet each other ’s eyes 
while listening to the Hungarian’s fluent dis- 
course upon studies, gardening, the church 
music and similar subjects. Able to please 
whenever she chose, she succeeded so well that 
by the time dinner had been over for an hour 
or so, and they had resumed possession of their 
well-dried shoes and dresses, Mrs. Livingstone 
had changed her mind with regard to sending 
a note to Mrs. Hill explaining their prolonged 
absence, and resolved to drive over and restore 
them in person. 

Sorely dismayed, the quartette, who had 


324 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


looked forward to being sent home by them- 
selves in the carriage as a fine respite from the 
long strain of company manners and a chance 
for discussing the situation, now becoming most 
terribly serious, were forced to swallow their 
chagrin and affect great gratitude. Helen, 
who seemed to have taken a fancy to Verena, 
showed some wish to accompany them, and 
Verena felt rather elated at the prospect of 
astonishing her dignified young hostess by the 
sight of the Mount Cedar girls in their short 
dresses, flowing locks and all the exuberant 
spirits of a set of scholars encouraged to remain 
children as long as possible. Again she was 
disappointed, for Mr. Livingstone announced 
his intention of going with them, and the four 
truants had hardly packed themselves into the 
carriage when the solemn old nurse appeared 
bearing a paper parcel, which she held out, say- 
ing it had been forgotten by the young ladies 
when they had taken their dresses off. 

‘HCs the candy burst out Kose, forgetting 
caution; while Kate vainly tried to snatch the 
parcel (all their stock rolled into one) which 
Eose received and kept holding in a sort of 
despair. 

The storm had long ceased and the wet fields 
were shining in the light of a clear half-moon. 
The girls were devoured by anxiety as to their 
reception at home. Mrs. Livingstone vainly 


AN ESCAPADE. 


326 


tried to make them talk; but even Verena’s 
flow of conversation seemed to have deserted 
her, while the presence of Mr. Livingstone was 
enough to extinguish Kate. With hearts as 
heavy as if they had been going to the dentist \s 
the guilty quartette were driven up the hill, and 
gloomily watched the tall school-building stand 
out against the sky. The door was not opened 
until the coachman had rung several times. At 
length, after what seemed an interminable 
period of suspense, grim Sandy appeared, with 
an ^^unco’ solemn^’ face. 

Verena mustered courage to lead the way to 
the parlor, longing to meet Fanny and afraid 
of encountering Miss Clive at every turn. 
Kate, terribly frightened, and nervously fancy- 
ing that everything unusual (the parlor, to their 
surprise, proving empty) must be in some way 
connected with their escapade, or that the whole 
school had followed the ^^GeneraF’ in search 
of them, seized Margaret ^s arm and oifered to 
go and look for Mrs. Hill; but her temptation 
to flee and leave Verena and little Rose in the 
lurch of having to stay with the company was 
luckily removed by the entrance of Madame 
Verrier, who, save poor Dorinda, was the least- 
dreaded of the teachers, and who was too much 
taken up with thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Living- 
stone, relief at seeing the girls back again, and 
excuses for Mrs. Hill, who, as usual, was indis- 


326 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

posed, for her to have time to scold or ask any 
questions. Afraid to move or speak, the four 
delinquents sat in a row like statues, Eose 
still clutching the telltale bundle of candies, 
which it provoked her friends to think she had 
not had sufficient presence of mind to drop 
quietly out of the carriage window instead of 
awkwardly displaying it to everyone. 

It might be only their own nervous fancy, but 
Kate and Margaret, as they sat side by side 
close to a door, thought that they heard a sub- 
dued bustle, a noise of tongues and footsteps 
overhead. What could it mean? Was there 
some new freak started among the Thistles 
which they had missed by reason of their 
unlucky absence? How unutterably provoking 
to be kept sitting there like prisoners, with 
strange visitors, who, as they knew, disap- 
proved of them, and with a scolding in pros- 
pect, after all I 


CHAPTER XIX. 


A COMEDY OF ERRORS* 

M ount cedar, alas! had been turned 
upside-down on this unlucky evening. 
The absence of the four girls, discov- 
ered about twilight, had, of course, awakened 
equal anger and anxiety in Miss Clive, who, 
after having house and grounds thoroughly 
searched in vain, ordered Jake to get out the 
omnibus and, in spite of the rain, started on a 
scouring expedition round the neighborhood. 
Poor Dorinda was forced to accompany her, 
and serve as a vent for Miss Clive’s baffled 
energies by meekly submitting to be lectured 
for her lack of influence over the pupils as they 
jogged down the hill and along the muddy road, 
stopping at almost every house to ask news of 
the girls, but with no result except to hear that 
they had bought candy at the shop and to be 
volubly assured by its mistress that the young 
ladies had left her before the storm began. 
Miss Clive’s uneasiness now knew no bounds; 
poor Dorinda suffered martyrdom; while Jake, 
on the box, tried at intervals to help by yelling 

327 


328 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


right and left to his ^ ‘ dear Miss Katie ^ ’ to show 
herself if she were near. 

Meanwhile the absence of their comrades had 
created no little stir among the other girls. 
Sophie Howard, escaping from the parlor with 
several of the most unsteady, instituted a 
private search among all the dormitories and 
unoccupied rooms until, overcome by wild 
spirits, they ended their scamper through the 
upper story by getting out through a trap door 
upon the nearly flat tin roof, where, the rain 
having ceased, they proceeded to disport them- 
selves by running, jumping, daring each other 
to venture as near as possible to the edge, 
dancing the Lancers by the light of the moon, 
and, putting their heads down over the tops of 
the kitchen chimneys, giving utterance to most 
hideous groans intended to smite with super- 
natural horror upon the ears of the denizens 
below. Having, after some half an hour of this 
delicious pastime, concluded that it would be 
more prudent to retire and reappear meekly 
and unsuspiciously, one or two at a time, in the 
parlor before prayers, they returned, as they 
thought, to the trap-door which, for greater 
security, they had closed behind them, but, upon 
opening, beheld only utter darkness. 

‘‘Too bad, theyVe turned off the light in the 
entry,” muttered the ringleader, Sophie. 
“Never mind; we can feel our way, I’ll go 


A COMEDY OF ERRORS. 


329 


first/ ^ and without more ado she cautiously 
proceeded to descend backwards, kicking out 
one foot until it found a resting place. 

‘‘It^s very strange; the steps seem uncom- 
monly far apart, went on Sophie as, holding 
on by the edge of the trap-door with both hands, 
her head sank down below the level of the roof. 
It was indeed very strange, for the next 
movement caused a jar and a rattle, while some 
heavy china article, hit by Sophie ^s foot, fell 
with a crash upon the floor. 

‘^You goosey, don’t you see you’ve got down 
the wrong door?” exclaimed Fanny, who, we 
regret to say, had shown great zeal in helping 
to be as wild as possible. “It’s the store- 
room and china closet, the Dragon’s own 
especial territory, and you’ve smashed some- 
thing, with a noise fit to rouse the dead, and 
stuck yourself down there in pitch darkness; 
and there ’s a fine piece of work ! ’ ’ 

Sophie, giggling, instead of taking her com- 
panion’s advice and scrambling out as fast as 
possible, showed a mulish obstinacy in making 
bad worse by dropping upon the floor, causing 
another crash in so doing, and groping about 
in the dark, trying to discover what she had 
broken. The girls, lying prostrate on the damp 
roof, with heads thrust over the edge of the 
trap-door, vainly implored her to reascend, and 
finally threatened to desert and leave her to 
her fate. 


330 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


Curiosity and fellow-feeling, however, still 
kept them peering down into the darkness, when 
Sophie, feeling blindly along the shelves by 
which she had descended, overturned a jar, the 
contents whereof, lightly rattling down, emit- 
ting a dull gleam and a sulphurous odor, suffi- 
ciently betrayed their nature to the rash 
invader, who, seizing one of the lucifers with an 
exclamation of joy, struck a light whose momen- 
tary glare revealed the crowded store-room, 
shelves covered with crockery, a large soup 
tureen lying in fragments on the floor, with a 
paper of brown beans that had been inside of 
it scattered in all directions, and, unfortunately, 
a half-covered box containing candles, one of 
which Sophie seized ere her match expired, 
lighted, and waved in trium23h towards the row 
of dazzled faces looking down upon her. 

^^It’s well only we are in it, for it would 
he worse than Martin’s Hill if it were the Hun- 
garian Demon and all those Gordons,” mut- 
tered Fanny, wont to include Kate, Margaret 
and Eose under the above title, and professing 
to consider it synonymous with the ne plus 
ultra of wildness. ‘‘That clan just heats all 
creation for carrying on when they once get 
going! Now, Bear, you’re a far-off shoot 
thereof yourself, and require looking after, and 
I won’t let you be so foolish as to go down 
there; it mayn’t he so easy to get out,” holding 


A COMEDY OF ERRORS. 


331 


back the young lady, whose first impulse was to 
descend ; while two others, resisting all Fanny ’s 
entreaties, lost no time in accepting Sophie 
Howard ^s invitation to clamber down and assist 
in her voyage of discovery. 

<^Yery well,^’ cried Fanny, ‘^please your- 
selves! You are as old as I, Sophie; and, if 
you choose to run headlong into hot water, it’s 
not my fault. Stay down there, eating and 
laughing, till the Dragon hears your noise and 
catches you. Good-bye,” and seizing the 
Bear’s hand, while followed by three other 
madcaps who had had enough of it and feared 
the consequences, Fanny left the open trap- 
door and, hurrying across the roof, soon found 
the right one, which she softly raised a little in 
order to reconnoitre before venturing to 
descend. 

It chanced that Elisabeth Armstrong, who, 
to do her justice, seemed greatly worried when 
she found that Kate was missing, had been in 
her tiny room in the top story, and heard the 
noise of crashing china, with the half-smothered 
peals of laughter. Thankful, for the first time 
in her life, to have gained indications of a frolic, 
since it might prove that the missing girls were 
in the house after all, she hurried to Miss 
Almira, who kept the key of the store-room, and 
who, armed with a candle, lost no time in fol- 
lowing her pupil to the upper story, passing 


332 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

swiftly along the gallery when Fanny, slyly 
peeping, saw them and whispered : 

‘‘Stay here! Keep quiet, while I go and 
warn the others.’’ 

Running across the roof she paused, breath- 
less, beside the door. 

“Come up this moment! The Dragon’s on 
her way. No time to lose !” 

“Nonsense, don’t be fooling us,” said Sophie, 
busy in trying the contents of la box of raisins, 
while her companions were liberally supplying 
themselves with biscuits from a large tin. 
“Come and join our picnic.” 

“Clara Jones, give me that candle,” went on 
Fanny, unheeding, “and make haste to climb 
out here while you can. ’ ’ 

Her manner was so determined that the girls, 
while half-afraid of a hoax, proceeded, laugh- 
ing, to obey. Miss Almira, unlocking the door a 
moment after, beheld smashed china, open 
boxes, scattered provisions, a candle, evidently 
just extinguished, rolling from the topmost 
shelf, and beside it the parting glimpse of a pair 
of red-stockinged legs belonging to the last 
fugitive as she whisked them up through the 
trap-door. 

‘ ‘ Kate ! V erena ! Rose ! Margaret ! ’ ’ cried 
Almira and Elisabeth in chorus, never doubt- 
ing but that the legs just vanished pertained 
of necessity to one or another of the girls whom 
they sought. 


A COMEDY OF ERRORS. 


333 


^^Slie doesn^t call us; so we needn’t answer,” 
giggled Sophie as they sped across the roof, not 
so noiselessly, however, but that the tramp of 
their footsteps was faintly heard down below. 

think the Evil One is loose to-night!” 
exclaimed Almira, in despair, surveying the 
wreck on every side; while Elisabeth, less con- 
cerned regarding that especial point than her 
sister’s prolonged absence, again joined with 
her in shouting the names of the girls. 

While teacher and pupil were thus employed, 
standing, candles in hand, with their backs 
towards the door of the store-room, and Sophie 
Howard, with Fanny and two others, were 
holding a hurried council of war upon the roof, 
Sophie Ursula and her three companions 
remained at first crouching where Fanny had 
left them until, unable to keep quiet any longer, 
they softly lifted the trap-door and, finding 
the gallery deserted, noiselessly crawled down 
the ladder, one by one. The Little Bear, who 
came last, thinking it a fine joke to compel 
those yet aloft to appear and surrender them- 
selves to the authorities, contrived to linger 
behind and shoot the bolt of the trap, so as to 
prevent it from being raised from outside. The 
other three, luckily for themselves, did not wait, 
but wisely hastened to the school-room and 
betook themselves to their desks to avoid ques- 
tioning. The Bear, left alone, ready for any 


334 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


novelty, seeing lights and hearing voices from 
the store-room, stole softly along the gallery 
until she caught sight of the door, which opened 
outwards, standing ajar, with the key in the 
lock. In a twinkling she had pushed it to and 
turned the key, regardless of the cries and pro- 
tests from within, and was olf, with the key 
in her pocket, running down to the school-room, 
where she intended to stay until, having given 
the whole party a good fright, she meant to 
slip back and release them in time for prayers- 

Elisabeth, who was nearest to the door when 
it was slammed behind her, turned round too 
late to see who was there, but, never doubting 
that it was one of Kate^s tricks, incited by the 
^‘Hungarian Demon, began to rebuke her 
unruly sister in terms affording huge delight 
to the unseen audience up above, who were like- 
wise regaled by Miss Almira’s eloquent appeal 
to the supposed truants, to whom she described 
the distress and commotion occasioned by their 
absence, with Miss Clive’s eager journey in 
pursuit, adjuring them, by all manner of argu- 
ments, to repent, reply and unfasten the door 
at once. 

‘‘What fun, she thinks she’s bagged the 
game, but she hasn’t,” laughed Sophie How- 
ard, unaware of her teacher’s imprisonment, 
and marveling at the sudden change from lofty 
wrath to tones of distress arising in both voices. 


A COMEDY OF ERRORS. 


3S5 


in beseeching accents from below. ^‘Open the 
door? What can she mean? Of course we’ll 
open it and go down; but not through her 
quarters.” 

‘‘I wish those Thistles would turn up,” said 
Fanny, anxiously. ^‘The joke has gone far 
enough; though it’s unspeakably delicious to 
have Queen Bess, for once, in a genuine fit of 
sisterly solicitude about Kate.” 

Listen,” said another; ^‘the Bragon prom- 
ises forgiveness, if we only will let her out. 
What is it? It reminds one of those ‘per- 
sonals’ in the papers that say, ‘Dear John, 
come back. All is forgiven. ’ It must be ‘ those 
Gordons,’ Fanny, after all; there’s certainly 
something beyond the common afloat to-night, 
and if Kate and the others aren’t in it — they 
ought to be, for it’s worthy of them! Here’s 
our door. Let us go.” 

“And a pretty mess,” exclaimed Sophie 
Howard; “the door won’t open!” 

Vainly did the four unite in trying to lift it 
from the roof. 

“Well, I declare!” groaned Sophie anew. 
‘ ‘ This beats everything ! One of those 
wretched little monkeys of Thistles must have 
bolted us out.” 

“It must be the Little Bear,” said Fanny. 
“Don’t you remember how, last week, she 
scared Dorinda nearly to death in the midst of 


336 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


a grammar lesson by yelling ^centipede!’ and 
pretending that she saw one crawling towards 
the poor Mouse, who dreads them even more 
than she dreads Miss Clive, and jumped back, 
and made a fuss, and quite forgot to ask the 
Bear some difficult question, which was just 
what the little rogue wanted. Won’t I pay her, 
though, for this! However, girls, weVe no 
time to lose; I’m chilled already. What shall 
we do ? ” 

A dismal council of war resulted in perforce 
resolving, since there was no other way of 
escape, to make common cause with the pair of 
captives in the store-room, whom they, how- 
ever, as yet did not know to be captives, but 
faintly hoped might be disposed to exercise 
mercy. 

‘ ‘ Bats in a trap, after all ! ” groaned Sophie, 
as they once more tramped across the roof. 
‘H’ll be steady for a month if I only get out 
of this!” 

^ ‘ Miss Almira ! ’ ’ cried Fanny, who, being the 
bravest, stepped forward, bending down her 
face above the opening, while the rest cowered 
behind. 

“Frances!” exclaimed the Dragon, sternly; 
“are you in this, too? What does it mean? 
Where are those children? Who has locked 
this door?” 

“Upon my honor. Miss Almira, I know 


A COMEDY OF ERRORS. 


337 


nothing of them,’^ Fanny answered earnestly. 
‘‘I wish they were here to speak for themselves. 
No one is here except Sophie Howard, Clara 
Jones, Agnes Lyman and myself. 

^‘Who, I ask, dared to slam this door and 
lock us up in this room ? ’ ^ screamed the Dragon, 
half-wild with very natural rage and disappoint- 
ment, brandishing her candle at arm’s length 
almost in the bent-down faces and drooping hair 
of the four girls looking over the edge of the 
trap-door. “What am I to think? One of 
them locked us in here not long ago.” 

^ ^ For all I know, there may be any number of 
them tearing about and playing tricks, ’ ’ 
resumed Fanny, undismayed, longing to laugh; 
while Queen Bess kept up a sort of excited run- 
ning comment which nobody heeded just then. 
“Sophie Ursula was here, with Emily Vane and 
two others. They left us a little while ago. 
One of them must have fastened the trap-door 
by which we came out, and have locked your 
door afterwards.” 

Almira’s intended outburst against the 
smasher of so much china was diverted for the 
moment from its proper object as she wildly 
proceeded to question the delinquents concern- 
ing their frolic ; while Elisabeth, bent on believ- 
ing the other culprits to be somewhere lurking 
in that story, wasted a large amount of strength 
and patience by madly rattling at the unyielding 
door. 


338 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


won’t open, and we four couldn’t raise 
the other trap-door; and nobody will hear us 
unless we all scream together,” said Fanny, 
serene amid the increasing tumult. ‘^Is there 
any other way of getting inside?” 

‘‘There’s a tiny trap-door opening into 
Sandy’s room, far over yonder,” said the 
Dragon, her anger, always apt to be short-lived, 
much subdued by the need for instant action 
and by finding that the most guilty parties were 
not before her. “Help me to get up out there, 
children, and perhaps we may manage to rouse 
somebody to let us in. ’ ’ 

Sophie and her pair of wild comrades had 
hard work to resist their spasmodic desire to 
laugh as they joined with Fanny in assisting 
Miss Almira and her by no means agile head- 
pupil to clamber up the shelves, and, not with- 
out much difficulty, to scramble out upon the 
roof. 

‘ ‘ Hurrah, this is spicy ! ’ ’ whispered the incor - 
rigible Thistle as her teacher slowly and fear- 
fully trod upon the tin covering of the roof, 
which creaked beneath her footsteps. “We’re 
revenged now on the Dragon ; and as for Queen 
Bess, her majestic gravity is all knocked out 
of her.” 

“Keep quiet, and don’t rouse the Dragon 
any worse,” muttered Fanny; “we haven’t 
begun to see the end of this matter yet !” 


A COMEDY OF ERRORS. 


339 


Sandy, whom Mrs. Hill had dispatched upon 
a fruitless quest after the girls among the small 
houses in the neighborhood, had returned in no 
very good humor, and was in his room, taking 
off his boots, wet with trudging through damp 
fields, when a loud rapping on the roof above 
his head caused him to start up and stand, a 
boot in one hand, and a hastily snatched-up 
pistol in the other, ready to receive whatever 

bogle’’ or burglar might invade his premises, 
with a defiant look upon his grewsome face that 
changed to one of wholly unspeakable amaze- 
ment as the trap-door, slowly lifted back, dis- 
closed the unexpected vision of poor Miss 
Almira’s stern yet woe-begone countenance. 

‘‘Alexander, don’t shoot!” she called to the 
puzzled champion of Mrs. Hill’s abode, who, 
with uplifted arms, stood prepared to assume 
the defensive; while the girls, peeping from 
behind, exploded with irrepressible mirth 
(wherein even Queen Bess is said to have con- 
descended to join), and Sandy, slowly regaining 
his wits, as he laid down both boot and pistol, 
and evidently supposing that only the finding of 
the truants could possibly account for Miss 
Almira’s extraordinary situation, solemnly 
began to congratulate her upon the “puir young 
leddies” being found at last. 

The Dragon (to the disappointment of the 
girls, who had counted on the fun of seeing 


340 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


her and Elisabeth compelled to sacrifice their 
dignity afresh by having to seek Sandy’s aid 
to descend gracefully through his sanctum) cut 
short his astonished exclamations by sending 
him to unbolt the trap-door in the gallery; 
which being performed, the party again crossed 
the roof and came down into the house. Their 
absence had caused such uneasiness to Madame 
that, afraid to trust any more pupils out of 
her sight, she made a general levy from parlor 
and school-room, and went in search of the 
rest with a troop at her heels that, encountering 
the heroines of the roof, occasioned the noise 
and talking which so puzzled the original cul- 
prits as they sat below. The reappearance of 
Sandy with the news that he had just let in the 
young leddies, with a strange leddy and gentle- 
man, called away Madame and left Almira in 
sole command of a chattering crowd, all too 
excited to heed her repeated orders for silence ; 
sorue jesting and laughing, and others venting 
their spirits by teasing Queen Bess, who, now 
that she knew Kate to be safe indoors, resumed 
her haughtiness and tried to scold down the 
rest, until Miss Almira effected a diversion by 
sending her to tell poor, worried Mrs. Hill that 
the girls were found. 

Mr. and Mrs. Livingstone departing as soon 
as civility permitted, were met on the road by 
the omnibus with Miss Clive, who, after vainly 


A COMEDY OF ERRORS. 


34J 


seeking the truants through the town, had 
driven to the police station and given the 
officials a full description of the runaways, for 
whom they were to make instant search. 
Thankful though she was to know them in 
safety, her manner, even while striving to be 
grateful, was so curt and haughty that Mrs. 
Livingstone, when she heard of all the trouble, 
sorely regretted that she had let kindly feel- 
ings, together with practical considerations of 
convenience, outweigh her first intention of 
turning about and driving them to Mount Cedar 
at once. Shy Miss Dorinda, regardless of the 
risk of being snubbed as soon as she was alone 
with Miss Clive, for once rose to the height of 
the emergency in a way which would have 
gained her the respect of her pupils had they 
known of it, by thanking the Livingstone s in 
Mrs. HilLs name with a heartiness that helped 
to atone for the indignant ‘ ‘ Generars’^ ^ lack 
of courtesy. 

There were too many separate accounts to 
be settled for anything to be done that even- 
ing; and the numerous culprits, as yet unques- 
tioned, were marched in to prayers, in no very 
prayerful mood. Miss Clive, for once with 
good reason feeling by no means satisfied with 
the result of her labors to make her scholars, 
as Frau Schulze said, Frisch, frohlich, fromm, 


342 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


und and to be herself head-teacher, 

vice-president, general, doctress, clergywoman, 
stage-manager, drill-sergeant, chief of police 
and Primum Mobile of Mount Cedar all in one, 
read through the prayers in a stern yet absent 
manner, and, without apparently heeding what 
she was doing, gave out the hymn, ‘‘Lead, 
Kindly Light, in which Verena’s voice led the 
contraltos with as much power and pathos as 
if she had been anything rather than one of the 
very worst and prickliest Thistles, now expect- 
ing to be brought to justice. Poor little Eose 
was less brave in defying the unutterable looks 
of Miss Almira and Elisabeth, opposite to her, 
and began to falter when, at the line 
‘ ‘ The night is dark, and I am far from home, ’ ’ 
the incorrigible Kate glanced over at her with 
a slight nod and thousandth part of a smile, 
which evidently meant an allusion to this even- 
ing ^s wanderings. Eose gave a faint gasp, but 
recovered herself until the words, 

“I loved to choose and see my path,’’ 
when Kate’s repressed mischief broke out into 
an unmistakable smile that obliged Eose to 
leave otf singing and put up her handkerchief 
to her mouth. Margaret Gordon and Sophie 


* Fresh, merry, pious, and free. The motto adopted by the 
young German “ Turner,* ** or “Gymnasts,” who united for the 
future liberation of their- Fatherland during its oppression under 

Napoleon I. 


A COMEDY OF ERRORS. 


343 


Ursula maintained their likeness by breaking 
simultaneously into a most undignified broad 
grin ; Sophie Howard giggled outright, 
V erena eyes fairly danced with mirth. Fanny, 
hitherto of most exemplary gravity, now 
entangled herself in the matter by bestowing a 
series of very energetic and imploring glances 
upon the culprits; while Miss Clive, now fully 
roused, only waited for the hymn to be finished 
in order to begin an allocution to the whole 
troop, wherein general and special misdeeds 
were handled without mercy, and those guilty 
of adding levity of demeanor to their other evil 
doings were threatened with undefined but 
severe measures, justly surmised to signify 
expulsion from the school. 

Fanny and Verena contrived to meet and 
edify each other with a recital of their various 
adventures the next morning, before the same 
were duly inquired into by Miss Clive in full 
court-martial after school. Punishment was 
awarded in no small measure to the truants, 
and much in the way of bad marks to the party 
on the roof, especially to the ringleader, Sophie 
Howard, who had to pay for the china she had 
broken. The Little Bear, who, though mis- 
chievous, was not deceitful, anticipated being 
brought to justice by boldly confessing how 
she had fastened the doors, and bearing her 
penalty with the others. Mrs. Hill, much dis- 


344 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


tressed by these additional proofs that the 
great defect of her school was a lack of strong 
moral earnestness, summoned the truants to a 
private interview that evening, from which 
they, being well frightened and subdued, 
returned, if not really as penitent as she 
desired, yet far better disposed to behave them- 
selves than they had ever been during this 
eventful summer, when, as Sophie Ursula 
described it, long afterwards, ^‘We were all 
so dreadfully bad, and had such a heavenly time 
ofit!^^ 


CHAPTER XX. 


ADVENTURES. 

P UNISHMENT could not last forever, 
and, when the absent scholars returned 
in September, the resumption of their 
ordinary routine only seemed to raise the spirits 
of the prickliest Thistles, and especially of 
Verena, who had never ceased to regret the 
stir and excitement of her first three months 
at school. It was true that she had recently 
enjoyed a slight novelty in the acquaintance 
which the intelligent but far too grave and 
sedate Miss Helen Livingstone had chosen to 
strike up with her young guest of that rainy 
evening, coming over to Mount Cedar to visit 
her cousin Margaret Gordon in order to culti- 
vate the fascinating foreigner. Margaret, 
being as young for her years in many ways as 
Helen was old for hers, soon saw through the 
flimsy pretext of wanting her society, and pri- 
vately edified her comrades by plain statements 
causing much amusement. The pupils who 
arrived this autumn were put into other classes, 
and Margaret still enjoyed the distinction of 
being the latest comer of Kate’s set, as much 

345 


346 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


at home among the Thistles as if she had been 
there for years. Wild though she was out of 
school hours, her standing in her classes was 
high from the beginning, and ^‘Foxey’’ soon 
began to agree with the Hungarian that Kate ^s 
position in some things was likely to be endan- 
gered by a powerful rival at last. 

Miss Benson and Miss Dorinda, one golden 
September afternoon, were dispatched by Mrs. 
Hill upon an errand immediately after the early 
dinner, expecting to return in time for the gym- 
nastic lesson which, in fine weather, was now 
held partly in the open air, Frau Schulze having 
been ill and not yet able to resume her visits. 
Eager for the pleasure of a walk ^^out of 
bounds,’^ a train of six Thistles asked and won 
permission to accompany them; and it hardly 
need be mentioned that this train consisted of 
Cornie, Fanny, Verena, Margaret, Sophie 
Ursula and Kate. 

Starting demurely, two by two, their exem- 
plary demeanor gradually relaxed into a gen- 
eral straggling ahead of their teachers. Cornie 
found it impossible not to gather up some of 
the beautiful rosy apples which had fallen 
from the overhanging boughs. Kate, the Lit- 
tle Bear and Margaret wanted to stop and 
caress every cat, dog, sheep, mule and calf that 
they saw. Fanny and Verena, when ordered by 
Miss Benson not to walk out of hearing, per- 


ADVENTURES. 


347 


sisted in talking German, to the discomfiture 
of their teachers, who imagined them to be con- 
cocting treason, but were forced to accept the 
excuse that Miss Clive liked them to practice 
that language with the Hungarian, in order to 
improve themselves. 

^‘Well,’^ began Cornie, ‘4Cs the first walk, 
I do believe, that we have been allowed to take 
since the Martin’s Hill affair. I wonder they 
are not afraid to trust six Thistles out in a 
bunch ! ’ ’ 

^^Yes,” said the Bear; ^‘especially since my 
delightful double has doubled our frolics. 
You should have been here, Cornie, one even- 
ing when we were supposed to be still en 'peni- 
tence for going on the roof. Madame had 
begun an exhortation upon morals and man- 
ners, and we were all sitting mouse-still, when 
what must Margaret do but leap up, with the 
most natural air of consternation, screaming, 
“A bat, a bat!” We knew, of course, that it 
was just a dodge to stop the lecture, but we 
jumped up and rushed about, and yelled, and 
set off Bess and the elder ones, who covered 
their heads and scampered out. But the best 
fun was to see how poor Madame bounced from 
her seat and looked up, fancying she saw the 
bat circling overhead, and imploring us to help 
her drive out the * cliauve-souris.^ We kept on 
screeching to our hearts’ content, until we 


348 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


feared she might smoke us; so I upset some 
chairs and Verena turned off the gas, while 
Kate pretended to help Margaret drive the 
little fellow out of the window, and we quieted 
down ; but there was no more of a lecture. ’ ^ 

(It may be here mentioned that Margaret’s 
device to cut the lecture short, probably sug- 
gested by the Little Bear’s previous trick of 
raising an alarm of a centipede, was not long 
after improved upon, with yet more audacity, 
by Sophie Ursula herself. Having discovered 
a nest of the chauve-souris^^ in a shed, she 
skilfully captured one of the young bats in 
her handkerchief, hid him in a paper box full 
of air-holes in her desk, and, having duly pre- 
pared him for his adventures by smuggling to 
him some milk from her own supper, managed 
to take him, box and all, into the parlor, and 
let him loose just in the middle of the hymn. 
His appearance, being equally sudden and 
genuine, created a violent commotion among 
the whole assemblage and a yet greater enjoy- 
ment for the author of this irreverent freak, 
who afterwards received the private congratu- 
lations of the rest of the ungodly — her willing 
^ ^ accomplices after the fact, ” as a lawyer would 
call it.) 

Their errand was soon over; and it was yet 
early in the bright September afternoon when 
they started homewards, at the girl’s urgent 


ADVENTURES. 


349 


entreaty going along the bank of the river, 
intending to make a short cut across the high 
ground to the school. The day seemed less like 
early autumn than the end of summer; tall 
flowers stood by the roadside, wild grapes were 
beginning to turn purple on the tangled vines 
that trailed in festoons across the evergreens, 
the Indian corn stood waving on the distant 
slopes in the sunshine. The spirits of the 
youthful party grew yet more jubilant, and 
they scattered right and left along the high- 
way, beside the water, gathering fruit and 
flowers. Poor Dorinda was powerless to restrain 
them, and little Miss Benson, though efficient in 
her way among the smaller girls, proved quite 
incompetent to drive six such wild ponies at 
once. The river shone at their feet in the 
golden sunlight; the bank rose steep and high. 
Verena, full of delight at thus rambling in the 
open country, ran, followed by Kate and Mar* 
garet, to the top of a mass of rock that sloped 
gradually up from the road on one side, and 
on the other hung precipitously over the river, 
leaving a narrow, sandy strip of beach around 
its base. 

^ ^ Hurrah ! ^ ’ cried Kate, spreading out her 
arms ; ^Hhis seems like being 

‘ ^ ^ On a rock, whose haughty brow 
Frowns o’er old Conway’s foaming flood,’ 


350 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


or like something in the allegories, and fairy 
tales, and unlike school.” 

seems like looking out into another coun- 
try — or another world,” said Margaret, who, 
though full of nonsense, was quite as imagina- 
tive as Verena or Kate. ^‘Hush, Bear, don’t 
keep shouting at us from down there that ^with 
haggard eyes the poet stood.’ "We’re not to 
be silenced even by you when we get going on 
about things you don’t understand.” 

‘Mt makes me wish, like Faust, to be able to 
soar away into that golden light,” said Verena, 
looking out into the dazzling west. 

Miss Benson and Dorinda had by this time 
come up to the party, trying to collect their 
scattered forces. Cornie, reappearing with a 
lapful of apples she had gathered, undertook 
to arouse the attention of the three girls, who 
kept talking, unconscious of a repeated sum- 
mons. Holding up her skirt, Cornie started at 
full speed up the gentle slope. The slant was 
so gradual and her limbs so strong that she 
arrived only too quickly at the top, and, unable 
to stop herself, ran full tilt against the girls 
as they stood poetizing, with their backs to her. 
Cornie ’s laughing exclamation rose into a cry 
of terror as the three, thus struck from behind, 
started, lost their balance, and fell over the 
edge, screaming and clinging to each other. 
("When Miss Benson had run around to the 


ADVENTURES, 


35t 


farther side, she beheld the frightened Cornie 
slowly gathering up her sturdy form from its 
prostrate position on top of the rock, while the 
ripe red apples were leaping and rolling in all 
directions. Down below, where a deep bed of 
soft mud intervened between the water and the 
road, she saw Margaret extricating herself 
from a sort of mud-bath into which, luckily, she 
had plunged without serious injury, save to 
her well-begrimed hands, dress and shoes; 
while a pair of small, trembling figures emerged 
yet more slowly, and dripping, from the shallow 
water. 

Don’t come near me,” cried Margaret, evi- 
dently more hurt than she chose to confess. 
‘ M ’m all mud. ’ ’ 

Don’t touch me, for your own sakes, 
girls!” cried Kate, as they first pressed for- 
ward and then drew back from her, as she stood 
shaking herself like a Newfoundland dog after 
a bath. ^M’m only bruised!” 

wish I could say the same!” groaned 
Verena, with a frantic effort to look cheerful. 
‘‘I struck upon a big stone down in the water, 
and seem to have broken my arm, for I can’t 
make it move. ’ ’ 

Five minutes of anxious consultation served 
only too clearly to establish the fact that 
Verena ’s right arm was fractured half-way 
between the wrist and elbow; her head was 


352 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


bleeding from a gash, and both she and Kate, 
in addition to their drenching, were far too 
much bruised and shaken to be able to walk 
home. 

^‘I’ll run back across the fields and have Jake 
sent with the omnibus,’’ said poor Cornie, full 
of unavailing remorse. 

‘‘You will do no such thing,” said Miss Ben- 
son sternly. “You have done enough to make 
trouble already, Cornelia Freeman, by your 
childish awkwardness. You will remain here 
and not go roaming by yourself.” 

“We ought to have a hero come to set the 
broken bone, like Doctor Antonio, in that lovely 
novel,” whispered Kate to Verena as they sat 
shivering, side by side, on the lower slope of 
the rock. ‘ ‘ Oh, if ’ ’ 

“Katharine, this is no time for jesting!” 
began little Miss Benson, who, when worried, 
was apt to call her pupils by their full names, 
in imitation of Miss Clive. “And you, Cor- 
nelia,” turning to the culprit, with an effort to 
make her short, squat figure appear majestic 
alongside of her tall, well-built scholar, “tuck 
up your dress and help me to wring some of 
the water out of these clothes.” Cornie, with 
the salt water beginning to stream from her 
own eyes, proceeded silently to obey; while 
Fanny whispered to the Little Bear, “Poetic 
justice for once! Verena took poor Cornie’s' 


ADVENTURES. 


353 


old friend away and made her ten times wilder 
— and now she is being accidentally punished 
for it by Cornie herself.’^ 

The shrewd ^‘Foxey’’ might have added that 
Kate, though to all appearance punished like- 
wise, probably found her chief punishment in 
the fact that she was hardly hurt worth men- 
tioning, only bruised, and drenched, and 
shaken, in an undignified, prosaic, unpleasant 
way; while Verena came in for all the fuss, and 
the sympathy, and the much-admired heroism 
which her friend secretly envied her for being 
so well able to display to an attentive audi- 
ence. Suffering, but resolute, and inwardly 
well sustained by the interest she excited, the 
Hungarian sat patiently in her dripping gar- 
ments on the ledge of the rock in the afternoon 
sunshine. The pair of anxious teachers con- 
sulted together. Fanny, Cornie and Sophie 
Ursula tried, in their different ways, to show 
their sympathy for the sulferers. 

No one thought much about Margaret Gor- 
don, who had withdrawn a little from the 
others, trying to wipe off some of the heavy, 
clinging mud. Wlien Miss Benson again 
looked round after her, she was not among 
them, and a second glance showed the girFs 
small figure briskly running back along the 
road. A summons to return was disregarded, 
and Miss Benson’s heavy form was not likely to 


23 


354 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


overtake the light-footed maiden, who, with- 
out once looking behind, sped on until she had 
climbed a fence, and, rather more slowly, had 
begun to mount the rising ground, toiling, in 
her mud-stained garments, over grass and 
stones, until the clumps of bushes hid her from 
sight. 

Vainly did both teachers and pupils unite in 
calling after her until they were hoarse. Miss 
Benson’s supposition that she was running to 
Mount Cedar for assistance was precluded by 
the fact that she had gone in an opposite direc- 
tion; and Kate wildly fancied for a moment 
that she might be hastening to her cousin’s dis- 
tant house. It was not the case ; still, this con- 
jecture (which Kate, however, thought it best 
not to mention) was somewhat nearer to the 
truth. 


CHAPTER XXL 


MARGARET^S INSPIRATION. 

E xulting in what she knew to be a justi- 
fiable act of disobedience, Margaret 
Gordon went on mounting the hillside, 
often, as soon as she was out of danger of 
molestation from her own party, compelled to 
stop and rest on mossy stumps, with the cheer- 
ful grasshoppers leaping round her, to regain 
breath and nerve her weary limbs to press 
forward. 

The uncultivated field was one in which she 
would gladly have lingered for hours among 
the wild flowers, sweet-scented' thyme and 
pennyroyal, blackberry bushes and tiny ever- 
greens. There were the yellow evening prim- 
roses and the gleaming golden-rod, soft, furry- 
coated mulleins and purple Scotch thistles she 
could not now spare time to gather. Was she 
in time, after all, she anxiously asked herself, 
looking up towards the sky line, where in full 
relief against the western light she saw, like 
a black silhouette, the outline of a man seated 
on a camp-stool, surrounded by sketching 
materials, a large, folded umbrella beside him 

355 


356 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


on the ground, an open box, a portfolio and a 
brown collie dog, wbo appeared (like tbe noble 
pair in tbe picture of Landseer and bis four- 
footed critics) to be watching the progress his 
master was making in tbe rough sketch of a 
fine gray mule, wbo was leisurely cropping tbe 
grass. Margaret, having found the person she 
was seeking, began to sulfer from exhaustion, 
and simply exclaiming, Cousin Augustine!’^ 
wearily dropped upon a stump a few feet from 
the gentleman, who looked up in cheerful sur- 
prise, answering, Margaret Gordon, how did 
you ever get here 1 ’ 

He might have been some years past thirty, 
but had something frank, merry and boyish in 
his face. He wore a very low-crowned, broad- 
brimmed hat and a strange-looking suit of dark 
flannel, which would have made some persons 
set him down for an artist or a foreigner at 
once. His features were well-turned and 
strong, the hair and beard thick, curling and of 
the darkest brown. The whole face was ren- 
dered thoroughly genial by the large, deeply 
set, luminous brown eyes, full of mirth and 
honest kindliness as they darted about with an 
artist’s quick, penetrating glance. 

caught a glimpse of you up here as we 
came along,” gasped Margaret. Helen said 
you were coming for a visit — oh — I’m so glad !” 

Her breath failed, but her relative (first 


MARGARET^S INSPIRATION. 


357 


cousin to her mother, and also first cousin of 
the owner of Maple Grove) by degrees drew 
from her a brief, clear account of the emer- 
gency, meanwhile putting up his belongings and 
preparing to start. 

^‘Ihl come at once, of course. You were 
right, Margaret, to scamper off without leave, 
for I don’t suppose your teacher would have 
heard of permitting you to summon me — and 
I’ll put matters right for you with your parents 
if you get scolded. But you are all trembling 
and seem utterly used up. Are you hurt?” 

‘^Only some hard bruises on my knees when 
I plumped down, ten feet or more, into the mud 
and grazed on some stones. It was lucky I 
didn’t fall into the water, like the others, for 
then I couldn’t possibly have come up here 
after you. I feel it more now than at first, 
when I move.” 

^^You had better not move — though I don’t 
see how else you are to get away from this 
place,” said Augustine Livingstone as, his 
preparations finished, he summoned his faithful 
dog and gave him orders to remain, guarding 
his possessions, until his return. There — 
take my arm, Margaret, walk very slowly, and 
stop every few moments to rest. It was very 
like a Gordon for you to take the law this way 
into your own hands, or, rather, into your feet, 
by rushing after me at once. I have heard tales 


358 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


about that school of yours, and how your 
friends have named you ‘the Lion,’ because of 
your fine tawny mane and general prowess ; and 
how you and some more were caught playing 
truant in the storm,” and the artist pealed out 
with a hearty laugh, like a boy. 

“I don’t mind your hearing tales, if I escape 
coming in for a private court-martial at home,” 
said Margaret, slowly limping along, but 
emboldened to regale her indulgent cousin by a 
spicy account of the adventures of that even- 
ing, and of the party on the roof, whereat he 
laughed until he fairly reeled, making her 
laugh in turn by pretending to fear lest he 
should pass for tipsy if seen by the rural 
public as they approached the road. Mar- 
garet’s exhaustion had by this increased to such 
a degree that Augustine thought it best to per- 
suade her to stop and rest in a small cottage 
belonging to a decent old colored woman, a rela- 
tive of Jake, while he himself hurried on to the 
scene of the accident, where the disconsolate 
teachers were just deciding that it might be 
best for Miss Benson to remain with Fann}^ 
Verena and Kate, while Miss Dorinda, escorted 
by Cornie and Sophie Ursula, should go home 
and send Jake with the omnibus. 

‘‘Here is the hero coming, just like ‘Doctor 
Antonio,’ after all!” whispered Kate to the 
Little Bear as her keen eyes caught sight of a 


MARGARET^S INSPIRATION. 


359 


tall man striding across the field up which Mar- 
garet had disappeared. ^‘Oh, Verena,^’ she 
added, below her breath, ‘‘if the Princess were 
only here instead of the Mouse — it^s just like a 
story 

Verena managed to nod, though unequal to 
much conversation; while the excited Sophie 
Ursula joined Kate in watching the movements 
of the stranger, now drawing very near, both 
congratulating themselves, in their merry, fool- 
ish hearts that it was “like a story, and that 
they seemed to he in for a real adventure at 
last. Wliile they were thus, as it were, pre- 
paring to fall in love by proxy, on the “Prin- 
cess’s’^ account, the unconscious hero of their 
romance, after clearing the roadside fence with 
an agility which exalted him yet higher in their 
estimation, gravely marched up to the wonder- 
ing party and introduced himself to Miss 
Dorinda, explaining Margaret’s action and 
present whereabouts, and begging them to 
accept his services in getting the young ladies 
home, advising them to betake themselves at 
once to Polly Handy’s cottage to wait, under 
cover, until dry clothing could be fetched from 
the school. 

“You can’t stay here much longer, or your 
pupils will catch their deaths of cold,” said 
Livingstone with decision. “A broken arm, 
head badly cut and bruises all over! I will 


360 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


carry her myself to the cottage, and try to pro- 
cure what is most needed, and, as soon as I have 
set her arm ’ ’ 

‘‘Then yon are a doctor, sir?’^ Miss Benson 
broke in abruptly. 

“No; I am now a painter; but my father was 
a surgeon, and I have studied medicine myself 
and know something about broken bones and 
such things,’^ said the stranger, smiling. “It 
may be hours before you can get a physician; 
so you had better let me try what I can do. ’ ^ 

“He’s ‘Doctor Antonio’ and an artist rolled 
into one — ^liow charming!” was, of course, 
Kate’s inward comment, which helped mightily 
to console her for the wetting, and the bruises, 
and the being very unimportant, and, more- 
over, being sharply told by Miss Benson to keep 
silent and give no unnecessary trouble. The 
stranger then stepped up to where Verena sat 
crouching upon the rock and examined her arm, 
putting several questions gently, but with an 
air of quiet resolution which, together with 
the pain she was suffering, rendered her for 
once as meek as possible. 

“You must let me fix your arm in a sling,” 
said Augustine, as he arranged a large hand- 
kerchief so as to support the injured member. 
‘ ‘ There ! Can you stand 1 ’ ’ Verena, her black 
brows knit together with pain, rose to her feet 
with difficulty, while the water streamed from 


MARGARETS INSPIRATION. 36J 

her dress from beneath the shawl Miss Dorinda 
had flung round her. Miss Benson, frowning, 
wrung out the wet draperies anew, eyeing 
Verena with a cold, reproachful glance, as the 
cause of so much worry (this under-teacher 
belonged to that class of persons who incline 
to consider illness or physical disability of any 
sort in the light of an affront to themselves). 
Augustine gently lifted the Hungarian as if she 
had been a child of four years old, and, telling 
the others to follow, set off slowly across the 
meadows, with the disconsolate female train at 
his heels. Verena must have been more shaken 
than they fancied, for her head sank helplessly 
upon the shoulder of her bearer, and she uttered 
not a word. Kate, slowly tramping along in 
her wet garments, leaning on poor, troubled 
Cornie^s strong arm, felt divided between 
genuine distress about Verena and irrepressible 
excitement at the adventure, gazing so earnestly 
after the stranger that Fanny, as might have 
been expected, began to tease her unmercifully. 

^^You goose, you Ye losing your heart at first 
sight, in that silly, sentimental way that you’re 
always laughing at, ’ ’ said this outspoken young 
woman. 

^Ht wouldn’t be much wonder if she did, for 
he’s just like a big, beautiful Newfoundland 
dog,” broke in Sophie Ursula; which singular 
compliment was well known by the Thistles to 


362 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR* 


be the very highest praise that the Little Bear 
was ever heard to bestow. 

An hour later and Augustine Livingstone’s 
long legs were rapidly carrying him across the 
high ground that rose up from the river and 
terminated in the hill whereon Mount Cedar 
Seminary stood. Low down upon the slopes the 
corn was waving and rustling in the splendid 
autumn sunshine; the ground was bright with 
great golden pumpkins and scarlet tomatoes ; in 
the orchards the yellow apples were weighing 
down the boughs. The painter was hurried and 
anxious, yet he could not help turning in the 
midst of his headlong progress through thickets 
and over fences to look with an artist’s eye at 
the wide panorama spread out before him. 
Below lay the fertile, rolling country, with the 
little town nestling in its center ; far away yon- 
der rose a range of hills, with the river winding 
in a gleaming line into the distance. Before it 
reached the hilltop the orchard ended in a 
vegetable garden, gay with many-colored 
growths, through which the stranger swiftly 
sped, and, leaping the paling-fence, found him- 
self in a half-cultivated, grassy spot full of tiny 
fir trees, white wild carrots blooming, low 
trellises whence grapevines clambered to twine 
themselves among the branches of the quince 
trees, feathery asparagus bushes bright with 
scarlet berries, and clusters of tall sunflowers. 


MARGARET^S INSPIRATION* 


363 


Beyond, at some distance, arose group after 
group of dark cedars, firs and pines, now planted 
in broad circles upon the lawn, now shading 
wide walks that led in winding curves towards 
the large gray building upon the summit of the 
slope. 

In one direction he beheld a variegated mass 
of tiny plantations side by side, as if belonging 
to the scholars ; and, nearer to the house, behind 
a wooden fence, he caught sight of the tops of 
various swings and bars arranged for gymnastic 
exercises out of doors. The maple-shaded path 
he was following seemed to lead farther away 
from the school, so he struck directly across 
the lawn, pausing for breath in the center of a 
circle of evergreens within a few paces of the 
flag-paved walk. Augustine took off his wide- 
brimmed hat and looked out from between the 
branches towards the house. Not usually 
troubled with much shyness, he yet felt a 
reluctance to go onward and disturb this rural 
paradise with his unwelcome presence and more 
unwelcome news. While he thus stood linger- 
ing, the fresh breeze, sweeping downwards 
from the hilltop, brought with it the measured 
tramp of feet and a sudden burst of loud, wild, 
martial-sounding music. 

Augustine stood still among the branches and 
glanced along the walk. Yonder, in the 
chequered sunlight, a train of girls came march- 


364 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


ing step by step to the air that must have 
sounded from a musical instrument hidden 
somewhere among the trees. On they swept, 
two by two, all clad alike in simple, short gray 
dresses, bareheaded, with long, loose hair float- 
ing behind them as they moved, the youngest 
leading the procession, in their kilt-like tunics 
and scarlet stockings, which flashed brightly 
in and out among the dark fir boughs as they 
gathered, separated, countermarched and per- 
formed a variety of soldier-like manoeuvres, 
apparently under the guidance of a leader as 
yet unseen. There were not over eighty girls, 
yet, as they wound to and fro, they seemed like 
thrice the number. As the wild and solemn 
measure of the Eussian national hymn passed' 
into a gayer one, the close phalanx broke into 
a single file and darted away down the avenue, 
returning by another path, but in different 
order. 

Each girl came bearing a long, slender wand, 
her outspread arms and hands drooping over 
it as it lightly rested on her shoulders. Sweep- 
ing onward, past the stranger’s hiding-place, 
the whole train, as though at a given signal, 
suddenly wheeled about and dashed down the 
ends of their wands upon the ground, each light 
staff striking with a sharp ring against the 
smooth flagstones as the maiden procession 
stood facing towards the school, still, flushed, 


MARGARET^S INSPIRATION. 


365 


expectant, each right hand holding the wand 
like a mnsket reversed, while the left hung by 
her side. The music kept on sounding; the 
train stood motionless in two long lines on 
either side of the wide walk, as though awaiting 
some one. 

And now she came, the hitherto unseen Diana 
of all these nymphs, sweeping through the open 
ranks that silently closed uj) behind her as she 
moved. Taller than her tallest pupil, yet not 
looking many years older, with slightly aqui- 
line, chiseled features and a majestic, uplifted 
head, crowned with thick black braids that 
would have reached to her knees. Her eyes 
were very dark and full, the eyebrows black 
and resolute, but the deep brunette coloring was 
enriched and softened by a brilliant, glowing 
complexion, while an expression of keen girlish 
enjoyment helped, for the moment, to subdue 
the firm outlines of her mouth. 

Her dress was simple, dark and flowing, 
hardly reaching to the ground, while gathered 
in by a red leather belt and relieved by a broad 
scarlet ribbon, apparently some sort of badge 
or symbol, which she wore over the left shoulder 
like a baldric. Eound her neck was a long 
black velvet band, from which hung a large 
gold locket that glittered and sparkled on her 
breast. Her right hand supported a wand 
held upright against her shoulder like a mus- 


366 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

ket. As she passed, and the music again pealed 
out into the wild, mournful, yet triumphal 
chorus of the Kussian hymn, each girl raised 
her own staff into the same position, while the 
whole troop, two by two, faced round and stood 
as though ready to follow her down the wide 
sloping walk, between the cedars, in the deep, 
purple, September afternoon shadows. 

‘‘Splendid creature — can she be only a 
school-teacher Augustine thought. “Not a 
trace of that weary, professional, unmistakable 
look those poor women always get about her. 
How I should like to paint her as she marches, 
with that superb erectness! She’s like the 
Diana in the Louvre — quite another type from 
that squat little chunk down there by the river, 
and her pale, shy companion. These blooming 
scholars have a leader worthy of them and of 
this breezy, pine-scented Paradise. ’ ’ 

And here he stopped short, for Miss Clive, 
slowly treading in time to the martial music, 
had reached the farther end of her file of young 
soldiers and seemed about to lead the column 
onwards, when the painter, with an effort, for 
he longed to continue watching, brushed aside 
the heavy, trailing boughs of cedar and 
emerged from his ambush, in full sight of the 
astonished maiden train, and directly in front 
of their no less astonished leader, who coolly 
surveyed the intruder with what Mrs. Browning 


MARGARET^S INSPIRATION, 


367 


calls ‘4evel-f renting eyelids/ and without a 
word. 

ought to ask pardon/’ began Augustine, 
absurdly conscious of a most boyish and repre- 
hensible inclination to laugh while this stately 
Diana stood gazing at him as though she would 
have liked to inflict upon him the punishment 
of Actaeon. ^^Am I addressing Miss Clive?” 

The lady mentioned gravely bowed. 

‘‘I came with a message from — Miss Davis, 
I think, was the name,” he added, somewhat 
hesitatingly, for poor Dorinda’s name and 
identity were fast growing faint in his memory 
as he stood face to face with this magnificent 
creature who looked as if she belonged to 
another world from the one inhabited by her 
shrinking subordinate. Miss Clive’s eyes, 
already dilated, grew more searching and eager 
as he spoke. She had been greatly worried by 
the non-appearance of her six pupils, and now 
her firm, beautifully chiseled lips parted with 
a half-checked exclamation of affright. She 
stood quite still, her form thrown out in full 
relief against the dark boughs, both strong, 
slender hands clasped upon the top of her wand 
that she had let slide down suddenly to the 
ground. 

^^One of your young ladies has broken her 
arm,” he went on hurriedly, deeming it only 
merciful to inform her of the extent of the acci- 


368 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


dent at once. ^ ^ She fell from a rock beside the 
river and struck against some stones — a very 
handsome, dark, foreign-looking little girP’ 

‘^Verena Forster!” cried Miss Clive, much 
worried. There seemed to be no end to the 
trouble she was to have about this girl, after 
all. She knit her black brows and compressed 
her lips as before, while Augustine gave her a 
brief account of how he had been summoned 
to the assistance of the distressed party by 
his little cousin, taking care to dwell upon 
Margaret ^s sense and presence of mind in 
boldly dashing off to where she knew he might 
be found, wishing to avert any unpleasant con- 
sequences from her head when she should 
return. What would Kate have felt had she 
known that, while Margaret ^s exertions in 
climbing the steep hillside with her aching 
limbs and wounded knees received full praise 
from her kinsman, her own wet, bruised con- 
dition won scarcely a brief mention from this 
new hero of hers, who went on, recurring to 
Verena, very remarkable child. She 

hardly uttered a complaint, and when I was 
going to set her arm, before it should become 
swollen” 

‘^Set her arm?” Miss Clive repeated, in sur- 
prise. thought, sir, you said that you were 
an artist.” 

‘‘So I am, now; but I first studied medicine, 


MARGARET^S INSPIRATION. 369 

and, when I was in the army, during the Civil 
War, I often found an opportunity for exer- 
cising whatever skill I had in that line,’' he 
replied, noticing meanwhile that Miss Clive’s 
stern face relaxed and brightened at his words. 
She was the daughter of an officer, and her name 
of the ^‘General” had not been bestowed upon 
her in vain. So he had been a soldier, after 
all, this abrupt stranger, in his wild flannel 
suit and great wide-awake hat, which might 
have done for Garibaldi himself. She began to 
feel more respect for this new acquaintance, 
who continued, was about to say that this 
little girl, when I had carried her to the cottage 
of an old colored woman, begged me not to wait 
until I should procure some chloroform, but to 
set her arm at once. She clenched her teeth 
and bore it with scarcely a groan. (It may be 
imagined what a sensation the recital of 
Verena’s prowess was creating among the 
listening troop of girls.) She seemed faint 
afterwards, as was to be expected, so I hurried 
otf to tell you that Miss — ah — Miss Davis 
desires that you will kindly send the omnibus 
and two complete changes of clothing for the 
young ladies to the cottage of old Polly Handy, 
whom your coachman will soon find, or, if you 
should prefer it, I will show him there myself.” 

think perhaps I had better go to join 
them,” said Miss Clive, with just the faintest 


24 


370 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


soupgon of an emphasis upon the pronoun 
which smote only too audibly upon the ear of 
the sensitive artist, who, feeling as though he 
were receiving his dismissal, stepped back a 
pace or two, and bowing low, with a ^ ^ Certainly, 
madam,’’ was about to depart by a short cut 
at once. 

^‘Stop!” cried Miss Clive, suddenly raising 
her right hand as Augustine turned away. 
^^Wait, I mean, Mr. Livingstone, won’t youl 
We are under great obligations to you, and I 
thank you heartily, in the name of Mrs. Hill, 
for all your kindness. Will you not, at least, 
permit us to drive you back?” 

Augustine, quite pacified, gently interrupted 
her. 

Thank you, hut I have left my whole 
sketching apparatus yonder in the field, with 
my dog in charge, and I feel in duty bound to 
the faithful creature not to keep him waiting 
there too long or to give the young colts who 
were frisking about an opportunity of eating 
up the sketch I was beginning, when Margaret 
arrived, of a fine mule” 

‘‘So you paint animals?” said Miss Clive, 
with some interest. 

“Often; hut I am not enough of a Landseer 
or a Eiviere to make them my sole specialty 
and devote myself chiefly to figure painting. 
I wished for my sketch book just now, when I 


MARGARET^S INSPIRATION. 


371 


saw you heading your procession,’’ he added, 
somewhat nervously, for this ex-warrior wanted 
to pay Miss Clive a compliment, and did not at 
all know how to do it. Those bright, bloom- 
ing young creatures, darting to and fro among 
the trees, make a sight such as a painter may 
be pardoned for wishing to be able to fix for- 
ever, and I did not watch them merely with the 
eye of an artist, for, soldier as I am, I could 
not but be struck by the extreme precision of 
their drill — the cadets at West Point hardly 
could do better. But I am detaining you,” he 
wound up quickly, seeing that he had gained 
his object of pleasing the lady by his praise of 
the girls’ marching and the military allusion, 
and was therefore well contented to depart. 

Miss Clive’s adieu to the stranger, who went 
off with rapid strides across the grass, was ren- 
dered rather shorter and less ceremonious than 
she had intended by the unpleasant necessity 
of turning round to rebuke a faint titter that 
arose from some of the smaller girls, who 
found the compliment to their drill (which, in 
reality, should have been given to Frau 
Schulze) entirely too charming to be listened 
to with becoming gravity. The ^ ^ General ’ ’ 
slowly lifted up the wand whereon she had been 
leaning for the last few moments, shouldered 
it as before, and led her troop towards the 
house. Augustine, half-way down to the lawn, 


372 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


turned to look once more at the girlish proces- 
sion as it vanished up the long, shady vista 
among the cedars; but in another moment the 
music ceased, and the whole fair train, with 
their stately leader, had passed onward out of 
sight. 


CHAPTEE XXIL 


BOTTOM AND TITANIA. 

‘‘I T RSULA SOPHIA WAGNER, will you 
I J never learn how to restrain yourself, 
' even in an emergency?” was Miss 
Clive’s exclamation as she alighted from the 
omnibus, a few steps from old Polly Handy’s 
cottage, which stood just within a meadow, 
bordering on a quiet lane. Margaret was sit- 
ting on a bench, drawn a little way from the 
house, and the Little Bear, whose fondness for 
animals was a thorn in the sides of her teachers, 
proceeded to vent her spirits, raised to an 
unwonted pitch by the day’s adventures, by 
wildly caressing Fritz and Jerry, the pair of 
fine gray mules, the pride of Jake’s heart. 

can’t help it,” cried the defiant Thistle, 
with her cheeks aglow. ^Ht’s so hot in there, 
and Miss Benson said Margaret wasn’t wet or 
hurt enough to need attention, and too much 
knocked up to do anything useful ; so we must 
wait out here. And that great, tall, handsome 
man has been down here again; he said he 
thought we might want him, and he made 
Yerena, and Kate, and Margaret all drink some- 

373 


374 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


thing; and he showed ns the loveliest sketch 
book, full of pictures of animals, and he said 

he wouldn’t go until you came, and” 

This jumbled and characteristic speech of the 
Little Bear, who had a fashion of concealing 
great shrewdness under an appearance of 
almost infantine simplicity, served only to 
darken the cloud upon Miss Clive’s brow. 

^‘Gave you sketches to look at and made 
them drink something?” she began, her grave 
look deepening into a genuine frown as the 
great, tall, handsome man” himself suddenly 
appeared from round the corner of the house, 
followed by his noble collie, and carrying his 
artist’s paraphernalia with both hands. 

^ ‘ I ought to tell you, ’ ’ he said, bowing, ‘ ‘ that 
on my way hither it suddenly struck me that I 
had forgotten to suggest that you should bring 
some restorative for the little girl, who is very 
weak; so I stopped at a farm-house and pro- 
cured some brandy, which I took the liberty of 
administering at once — there was no time to 
lose. You may probably need me to lift her 
into the omnibus, or to go for a physician, so 
I shall remain out here and occupy myself, with 
your permission, by sketching these fine ani- 
mals of yours — to compensate,” he added, 
laughing, ‘^for that other sketch I was begin- 
ning when Margaret summoned me. ’ ’ 

‘‘Thank you, sir,” Miss Clive answered 


BOTTOM AND TITANIA. 


375 


shortly, ‘^ but I took care to bring with me what- 
ever we might be likely to require, and she 
swept past him into the little dwelling, whither 
Miss Almira had quietly preceded her a few 
moments before, carrying the bundle of dry 
garments for the luckless pair of wounded 
heroines, who were discovered sitting in front 
of old Polly ^s stove, dismally wrapped in mot- 
ley draperies, while their wet clothing was 
hung to dry on a line across the chimney-place. 
Kate, however, was in high spirits, somewhat 
dashed by anxiety about Verena, who, as 
Augustine had said, seemed utterly exhausted. 
Fanny was industriously trying to divert the 
invalids with the artisFs sketch book, while 
Miss Benson and Miss Dorinda, sorely 
chagrined that an accident should have hap- 
pened under their auspices, were pouring the 
accumulated vials of their wrath upon the head 
of Cornie, who hardly ceased to weep. Old 
Polly bustled about, full of voluble sympathy, 
insisting upon the whole party partaking of 
the hottest possible tea. 

The ‘ ‘ General, ’ ’ taking the command, 
instantly began scolding Cornie, who, in the 
intervals of the long and tedious process of 
getting the two girls into dry clothes, with due 
regard to their bruised condition and Verena ’s 
injured arm, had to listen to the worst lecture 
she had ever been known to receive upon the 


376 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

subject of her headlong carelessness. Almira, 
far more gentle in her ministrations than Miss 
Clive, busied herself especially with the Hun- 
garian, whose sufferings called forth all the 
poor Dragon’s latent tenderness. The ‘^Gen- 
eral’s” first act of authority was to snatch the 
sketch book from her pupil’s hands and send it 
by Miss Benson to its owner, who, having 
seated himself upon his camp-stool in front of 
the mules, was proceeding to take their por- 
traits, to Jake’s unspeakable delight. Mar- 
garet, somewhat recovered, sat on the bench, 
caressing her cousin ’s beautiful dog, and Sophie 
Ursula, who had discreetly dodged out of sight, 
no sooner saw Miss Benson disappear than she 
stole quickly forward and stood beside the 
artist, watching every stroke. 

“Won’t you draw Jerry, that one to the 
right, by himself? He’s the gentlest and the 
handsomest,” she said; and Augustine, to 
gratify her, began the likeness as desired. 

“Won’t you draw me, as Titania, caressing 
Bottom?” next asked the Little Bear, who was 
not much troubled with bashfulness, as she 
approached her favorite, and, standing on tip- 
toe, began to pat and rub his long, solemn face. 
“Oh — just let me get on that stump, and we’ll 
have our heads on a level, and you can draw 
us both. 


BOTTOM AND TITANIA. 


377 


“ ‘While I thine innocent cheeks do coy, 

And stroke thy fair, large ears, my gentle 

joy,^ 

earnestly quoted Sophie, to the unspeakable 
amusement of her companions, while she 
fondled her long-eared pet, who, as she was in 
the daily habit of visiting and caressing him, 
remained perfectly motionless. “Wait till I 
lead him over to that stump and then you can 
begin. He^s only a mule, but he’ll do for Bot- 
tom. You needn’t mind my having such a 
short dress; fairies always wear ‘kirtles,’ you 
know. And you might ask Jake to get down 
from the box and stand for the rest of Nick 
Bottom, in a Grecian tunic, instead of his ugly 
nineteenth-century clothes. How I do wish the 
men now wore a dress like what they did in the 
seventeenth century, and flowing hair, instead 
of the horrid sandpaper style. I ’m so glad you 
don’t wear yours as short as most gentlemen 
do now; I suppose it’s because you’re an artist 
and hate ugly things.” 

Augustine and Margaret simultaneously 
burst out laughing, while the Little Bear gently 
guided the obedient mules to the desired spot, 
and mounted the stump, thereby bringing her 
own uncovered auburn head on a level with 
that of the animal. “Now, Mr. Livingstone, do 
please draw us — while I put my arms round 
his neck — so.” 


378 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


‘ ‘ I shall ask leave, some day, to paint you and 
Margaret together, said Augustine, highly 
amused. ^Mt startled me when I first saw you 
with the others, when I had left Margaret over 
here a few minutes before, and I almost fancied 
she had given me the slip and rejoined them.’’ 

^^Oh, yes; there’s no end of fun with our 
being taken for each other. And, when she 
raced off, and wouldn’t mind orders to come 
hack, Fanny Fox nodded at Kate and me and 
said, ^A Gordon, a Gordon!’ No wonder that 
was enough for the war cry of the clan, for it 
signifies a great deal.” 

‘‘I knew better,” put in Margaret, ^Ghan to 
waste time in explaining to Miss Benson about 
my cousin being near at hand, for she would 
either have forbidden my going or would have 
insisted upon going with me, and a fine piece 
of work getting her up yonder would have 
been. It seemed better just to run away and 
take the consequences.” 

^‘Does Miss Clive encourage you to read 
Shakespeare?” inquired Augustine, wondering 
whether the handsome head-teacher were as 
original a being as this specimen of her pupils, 
whose portrait he was busily drawing, while 
drawing out the communicative young lady 
likewise, to Margaret’s unconcealed delight. 

‘ ^ Oh, yes ; in little bits, here and there ; but 1 
knew all about Nick Bottom, with his donkey’s 




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Bottom and Titania 


BOTTOM AND TITANIA. 37‘> 

head, before I was five years old,^’ said Sophie 
loftily. She took the bait, however, or pre- 
tended to take it, knowing well enough that this 
agreeable stranger wanted to hear about Miss 
Clive, and only too willing to gain her own 
point of keeping him in a good humor by 
gratifying his curiosity. ^‘She brings us up 
on her own plan, half like a convent and half in 
the style of everything advanced and modern; 
and I think it’s a most charming combination, 
Margaret, don’t you?” 

Don’t I?” said the young lady, as she 
stroked the dog’s soft ears. ‘Mt results in 
most delightful scrapes, and dramatic per- 
formances, and I mean to edify Cousin Augus- 
tine with the history of the Martin’s Hill 
affair, and a few more that he will appreciate, 
before long.” 

feel complimented by being worthy of 
such confidences,” laughed the painter, while 
the Little Bear broke in, ^AVait a minute, 
please, Mr. Livingstone, till I put some of those 
wild-flowers in my hair, for Titania, you know,” 
and she took the round comb out of her stream- 
ing locks, smoothed them, replaced the comb 
and decorated her own head and that of the 
patient mule with white wild carrots and bril- 
liant golden rod. ^‘Oh, you needn’t have the 
slightest scruple about sketching us. Miss 
Clive absolutely adores what is fanciful — she 


380 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


sets US acting a play twice a year, and lets us 
be photographed in costume. I just wish you 
could see those twelve lovely groups, in cabinet 
size, all framed together, and one larger one 
by itself, which Mrs. Hill keeps hanging in her 
private parlor, as a memento of our delightful 
performance last June, when Margaret was a 
spectator and fell in love with our school. And 
we have so many prizes and badges of merit, 
like this medal of mine. Oh, it isn’t for any 
sort of goodness, you know; that’s not my line. 
I got it for skill in the cooking class, making 
soft gingerbread. Miss Clive says it is just 
ridiculous to teach girls all sorts of higher 
branches, and not the things we will have use 
for; so she started the cookery class, and you 
ought to see how half of the stupid ones — ^not 
that I’m stupid, except about arithmetic — who 
can’t say a French verb right to save their lives, 
have taken to cooking and shine out as culinary 
geniuses at last. Fanny Fox — that small, dark 
handsome girl, who kept hanging round Verena 
— says that Miss Clive tries to govern us 
according to the French saying, ^La vanite se 
mele dans tout/ ” 

And here the Little Bear paused, out of 
breath. 

^‘Particularly in your wishing me to draw 
you as the queen of the fairies!” said Augus- 
tine, unable to conceal his intense amusement. 


BOTTOM AND TITANIA, 38J 

The Little Bear gravely assented, and encour- 
aged by liis evident enjoyment, launched forth, 
assisted now and then by Margaret, into a 
lively, bold, saucy, yet on the whole correct 
description of her head-teacher ^s rule and its 
most salient peculiarities. 

‘‘And there’s another thing, she hates per- 
sons who haven’t any character. She says 
she ’d rather have us too decided than too weak. 
Poor Mrs. Hill is always ailing, and Miss Clive 
just twists her round her little finger; but I 
should just like to see the person who would 
make her mind! And Kate Armstrong — the 
girl who got ducked with Verena — says that 
Miss Clive always reminds her of Tennyson’s 
Princess.” 

“Upon my word, she looked at me as if I 
were the Prince disguised, sneaking into her 
sacred precincts,” said Augustine, struck by 
the comparison. “She eyed me like her high- 
ness herself” — he stopped abruptly, catching 
the clear glance of his amused young cousin and 
the full gaze of Sophie ’s dark gray eyes, laugh- 
ing as much as her merry lips, while the cottage 
door, suddenly opening, revealed Miss Clive’s 
tall form upon the threshold. 

Augustine jumped up, but the Little Bear 
stood her ground, on the stump, with her arms 
round the neck of the mule, whose flower-decked 
head remained immovable alongside of her own 
light, wreathed, streaming locks. 


382 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


Ursula’^ — Miss Clive began as usual; but 
her speech was cut short by Augustine’s sud- 
den prot^er of the newly finished sketch. 

‘‘You see I have taken rather more than was 
granted, not merely the likeness of your mule, 
but of your pupil,” he said jestingly, and would 
have added more, but Sophie Ursula inter- 
rupted : 

“Are you going to give it to her? Oh, 
how mean!” and to Augustine’s surprise she 
flushed and looked ready to cry. The drawing 
was really very pretty, and Miss Clive at any 
other time would have been loud in its praise, 
but she merely said, loftily : 

“This is no season for joking. Will you 
oblige me, Mr. Livingstone, by carrying my 
injured pupil to the omnibus?” 

Augustine, rather mortified, though amused, 
quietly handed the sketch to Sophie, who seized 
it with a nod of triumph, accompanied by a 
breathless “Thank you, ever so much!” and, 
after proudly showing it to Margaret, thrust it, 
carefully rolled up, into the safe fastness of 
her deep pocket. Miss Clive, for once, seemed 
too preoccupied to notice them ; and the general 
attention was presently absorbed by the sight 
of Verena, pale and drooping, her arm in a 
sling, as the painter gently bore her to the 
omnibus, amid a loud series of fervent expres- 
sions of sympathy from Jake. Kate followed 


BOTTOM AND TITANIA. 


383 


next, supported by Cornie and Fanny. The 
whole procession had rather a funereal aspect, 
very different from the one which Miss Clive 
had headed an hour before. Sophie Ursula, hat 
in hand, her hair still crowned with flowers, and 
Margaret, with garments sorely the worse for 
black stains of mud, slipped last into the omni- 
bus, leading between them the dignified collie, 
perforce accompanying his master, who, laden 
with his many artistic belongings, escorted the 
ten more or less disconsolate wise and foolish 
virgins almost as a matter of course. 

It was near sunset when the painter made his 
second appearance at Mount Cedar; the level 
rays were reddening the trunks of the trees and 
shining upon group after grgup of girls scat- 
tered about the lawn, eagerly watching for the 
omnibus as it came slowly up the winding road. 
Prominent among them was Madame Verrier, 
earnestly imploring them all to be ^‘tres sage^^ 
when the omnibus drew up before the door, for 
there was monsieur la-dedans Mrs. Hill 
stood upon the porch, ready to receive and 
thank this new hero, finding plenty to do in 
making Elisabeth Armstrong, at her side, 
understand that on no account was she to under- 
take to reprove or in any way annoy Kate 
because of the accident; neither must she pre- 
sume to reproach poor Cornie, or to indulge in 
any more of her favorite speeches about the 


384 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

Hungarian being always a center of disturb- 
ance. Julia & Co., afraid to risk their char- 
acters by any audible remarks which might jar 
upon the present highly wrought mood of the 
sympathizing public, took a hint from what they 
overheard addressed to Elisabeth, and pru- 
dently withdrew to a safe distance, where they 
exchanged characteristic comments. 

Eose Gordon rushed forward, followed by 
Brownie, to be sternly repelled by Miss Clive, 
while Verena was borne by Augustine Living- 
stone up the steps and into the wide hall, where 
she fainted away as he laid her down upon the 
sofa, thereby redoubling the commotion and the 
chorus of lament. The stranger, thus unex- 
pectedly introduced into the midst of this dove- 
cote, had little opportunity for taking notes of 
its interior, for Miss Clive, bending in her large 
black straw hat and scarlet feather over her 
senseless pupil, whom Madame and Miss Almira 
were trying to revive, rather bluntly ordered 
him to carry her immediately to the infirmary 
at the top of the house, and, as the poor child 
took a long time to recover from her swoon, 
curtly accepted his offer of going for their 
regular physician, and dismissed him after brief 
thanks. 

Mrs. Hill, far more courteous if less efficient 
than her imperious subordinate, overwhelmed 
him with heartfelt gratitude, insisting that he 


BOTTOM AND TITANIA. 


385 


should first be driven to the doctor’s office in 
the town and then to his cousins ’ house. Some 
time later, in the twilight, Mrs. Livingstone, at 
Maple Grove, was astounded by seeing her hus- 
band’s much-liked guest and cousin emerge, in 
solitary state save for his faithful dog, from a 
large omnibus, drawn by two fine and beauti- 
fully kept mules, whom he stopped to pat and 
caress with a heartiness that went far to confirm 
her well-regulated mind in her private con- 
viction that this practical, soldierly, artist rela- 
tive of theirs, whose visits were so charming, 
despite all his talents had always had something 
not very unlike a bee in his bonnet. 


25 


CHAPTEE XXni. 


THISTLE-DOWN. 


ERENA was drooping and shaken for 



several days; but her arm knit rapidly, 


* and she often said that, but for the 
necessary suspension of gymnastics and all 
violent exercise, her injury was not such a very 
bad thing. She was petted by all her friends, 
waited upon by poor, contrite Cornie, who, with 
her keen remorse, seemed the chief sufferer, and 
had no copies, or themes to write, or music to 
practice, or sewing-lessons to do. Her wounded 
head had made it advisable to cut otf her long, 
rippling hair, and she went about with short, 
curling, boyish locks that made Kate think her 
more than ever like some young hero in a poem, 
and brought out her dark, delicate beauty in a 
style that was striking and new. 

No scars remained upon her forehead, and 
Kate declared that Verena always had luck, 
even in her misfortunes. For herself, she 
vowed that nothing ever would turn out in any 
way that was romantic or ‘‘like a book.’^ It 
was better to have a broken arm and be a 
heroine for weeks than to undergo a horrid 


THISTLE-DOWN. 


387 


sousing and fright — ^how dreadful it had seemed, 
just those few seconds under the water! — and 
have nothing to show for it hut a set of ugly 
bruises which weren’t even bad enough for her 
to be excused from her lessons for more than a 
single morning. Verena was highly important 
on the strength of her injuries, and Margaret 
occupied the position of second heroine because 
of her dogged exertions in going off after her 
cousin when so severely knocked and bruised by 
her tumble into the stone-strewn mud that she 
was lame and limping for many days. 

So Kate, playing third to her two friends, 
wisely rejoiced that she was not in Cornie’s 
place, getting * blame and self-reproach. One 
lasting source of satisfaction from the adven- 
ture remained in the fact that Mr. Livingstone, 
on the pretext of accompanying his cousins, had 
paid several visits to the school. Verena ’s 
accident and her fortitude had increased the 
interest she had excited in Helen Livingstone, 
while Margaret’s presence of mind had raised 
her many degrees in the estimation of her 
young relative, hitherto inclined to look down 
upon her as too childish. The artist had been 
so useful, and now contrived to make himself 
so agreeable, that Mrs. Hill soon granted his 
request to be allowed to make a sketch of Sophie 
Ursula and Margaret, represented, at their 
urgent desire, as bending their heads together 


388 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


over liis collie, whose beautiful countenance 
these young ladies pronounced to be the gem 
of the whole. The sittings took place in Mrs. 
HilPs private parlor, under her own eye or that 
of Madame Verrier, with occasional brief visits 
from Miss Clive, which soon excited the 
romantic imagination of some of her pupils to 
the utmost. Her semi-conventual mode of 
life for the scholars did not at all seem to have 
kept the idea of matchmaking out of their heads, 
and perhaps may have rather produced the 
opposite result. 

Kate, while constantly professing indiffer- 
ence for love stories and love affairs in theory, 
and declaring that she knew she was intended 
for a ‘‘girl bachelor^’ of the most modern type, 
had quite settled in her own mind, and per- 
suaded many Thistles likewise, that their beau- 
tiful young head-teacher must not spend her 
whole life at a boarding-school, but was bound 
to be, some day, wooed and won by some hand- 
some hero like the artist, whom she therefore 
instantly, and as a matter of course, had fixed 
upon as the Coming Man as soon as' she had 
seen him striding on, as she said, like a stork, 
being well aware, thanks to the novels she had 
read in the holidays and whenever she could 
get hold of them, that the conquering hero is 
sure to make his first appearance in the heart 
of an emergency. Not that they wanted to lose 


THISTLE-DOWN. 


389 


Miss Clive, only their heads were full of the non- 
sense which grows so wildly and thrives but too 
luxuriantly in brains of fourteen or there- 
abouts; so that the remote possibility of a 
romance in her quarter had gained complete 
possession of their restless minds. Augustine 
Livingstone’s very apparent admiration for the 
stately leader of the girls ’ march had not failed 
to impress many of the elder pupils, who lost 
no time in describing the whole to the heroines 
of the accident on their return. The ball being 
thus, as it were, set rolling, every trifle served 
to feed the flame. A speedy result of the 
sketching was that the Little Bear and Mar- 
garet were invited to lunch one Saturday at 
Maple Grove, in order to sit for the painting 
which was to be elaborated from the first 
draught, while Kate, Verena and Eose were 
asked to come over for the evening, with Mrs. 
Hill and Miss Clive. Mrs. Hill declined, but 
the Princess,” from motives which remained 
inscrutable, plunged a number of Thistles into 
the most ridiculous excitement by accompany- 
ing the girls. 

And so the spare time after the early dinner 
on a mild, sunshiny Sunday found a bunch of 
Thistles gathered together in the garden, lis- 
tening to Verena, who, her arm in a sling, but 
otherwise very full of health and spirits, was 
recounting the history of all that she and her 


390 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


friends had seen, heard or surmised on that 
Saturday evening. It is superfluous to add 
that the chief attraction of this otherwise rather 
ponderous visit consisted in their having kept 
an Argus-eyed watch upon their handsome 
teacher and the artist. Nothing very striking 
had occurred, but the mere fact of Augustine 
having sat talking exclusively to Miss Clive for 
a great part of the evening was sufficient to set 
their minds into a flutter. 

‘‘He managed to find out the General’s 
Christian name, did he?” giggled Sophie 
Howard, in a quiver of delight. 

“Yes; Helen Livingstone asked me to write 
my full name in her birthday book, and, of 
course, they were astounded at my having so 
many; all except little Edith, who said she 
thought it was delightful, and our artist friend 
heartily agreed with her. He said that there 
is hardly any civilized nation so full of com- 
mon, ugly, undesirable names as this one, and 
that he wished some hideous ones, like Keziah, 
and Mehitabel, and Abigail, and so forth, could 
be forbidden by law. And our Princess, though 
she looked splendidly in that becoming garnet 
dress, braided with black like a Hungarian 
jacket, was evidently bored to death by Mrs. 
Livingstone, who kept discoursing upon educa- 
tion, and improving books, and seemed de- 
lighted when that ‘great, tall, handsome man,’ 


THISTLE-DOWN. 


391 


as the Bear calls him, turned the conversation 
upon names and asked what hers might be. Oh, 
it was such fun, just to sit and listen, in the 
intervals of having to talk to Helen, who is a 
very fine, intelligent girl, but terribly ponderous. 
The little one is worth a dozen of her, isn’t she, 
Margaret f ’ ’ 

Yes, indeed ! She hasn’t had to labor under 
the complex disadvantages of being an eldest 
child, with a painfully superior mother. Edith 
and Charlie take after their genial papa; but 
Helen is her mamma’s own dignified daughter, 
whom I long to be able to take some of the starch 
out of. Edith and our little Kose, of course, 
hadn’t the least idea how we were watching the 
Prince and Princess, and missed the fun.” 

^ ‘ Such fun ! ’ ’ sighed Kate ; ^ ‘ I felt so happy, 
just like a Carbonaro, or a conspirator, or some- 
body in a play, though it wasn’t plots, or poli- 
tics, or anything tragic ; just the wish that those 
two might like each other. ’ ’ 

‘^Our Sunflower was so happy and so busy 
listening that she hardly said a single word,” 
went on Margaret. ^‘It made me nervous to 
think how she was quietly absorbing everything 
that was uttered, and would be able to come out 
with it all, years hence, if she chose. And 
Verena’s string of foreign-sounding names 
nearly knocked the breath out of Cousin Ger- 
trude, for she thinks everybody ought to be 


392 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 

called after their grandparents, and that fancy 
names are rather improper. ’ ^ 

‘‘It’s cruelty to animals to christen children 
by hideous names and make them suffer for 
life,” said the Bear. “We were all asked to 
write ours in the birthday book, and my Ursula 
Sophia astonished them, especially as I put 
after it, ‘usually called the Little Bear.’ How 
the Prince did laugh and hint that I tried my 
best to live up to it. ’ ’ 

“He drove back with you, didn’t he?” asked 
Cornie. 

“Oh, yes, indeed,” began Verena; “he said it 
was better for ladies not to be driven at night 
sans gentlemen ; so, as J ake did not seem a pro- 
tector of very heroic mold, what must our 
Princess- General do but invite him to become 
our escort; and I know it was just what he 
wanted. He’s quite at home now in our omni- 
bus. You should have seen how we five sat on 
one side and let those two have the whole seat 
opposite — ^he at a respectful distance from her, 
and talking loud enough for us to hear every 
word. How we quizzed poor Rose, telling her 
to ‘admire the charming prospect.’ Of course 
we meant the prospect of the Prince losing his 
heart; but the simple child only turned round 
and sent us nearly into convulsions by staring 
out of the window into the dark. ’ ’ 

“And,” put in Kate, “when we got out, what 


THISTLE-DOWN. 


393 


must he do but stop to pat the mules — he seems 
especially fond of those animals, like you, Bear 
— and I know he made it an excuse for lingering 
a moment to talk to the Princess before he set 
off on his solitary walk home — he says he loves 

to roam about the country at night — and’’ 

‘^You goosey,” began Fanny, ‘^you don’t sup- 
pose he would be so absurd as to begin talking 
sentiment at the door of an omnibus with you 
all, and J ake, too, within hearing ! ’ ’ 

^‘When Foxey speaks the other party always 
is a goose,” said Kate. 

‘‘Kate’s imagination is as wild on this sub- 
ject as if she had lost her own heart, instead of 
giving away our General’s,” said Margaret. 
“It is all very exciting; but the best fun is to 
see what a series of electric shocks poor Helen 
undergoes when she comes here and sees Cornie, 
her own age and size, running about like a 
little girl, and climbing, and skipping rope. 
And Mrs. Hill, I know, intends to ask all my 
cousins here for the next theatricals by way of 
returning their hospitalities — and, if they come 
— oh, girls, it makes me shiver already to think 
of Cousin Gertrude’s criticisms — unless she 
should bring the Prince along. They like to 
have him there ; it stirs them up.” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


A TERRIBLE MISTAKE. 

I T was a mild, moonliglit evening in October. 
Nearly all tbe girls had gathered in the long 
parlor, about to begin their usual Satur- 
day's amusement of acting charades or having 
tableaux in the large curtained recess at the 
upper end of the room, which did duty for a 
theater on ordinary occasions. A party had 
been sent by Madame to fetch the theatrical 
wardrobe, and they were busily diving into 
certain well-stuffed drawers and closets in a 
small upstairs room at one end of a gallery, 
when Verena’s quick ear caught the sound of 
a man’s footsteps advancing along the flag- 
paved walk. Dropping everything, an eager 
group clustered round the open window. 

“It’s the Prince, girls; there’s no mistaking 
that height or that military stride,” excitedly 
whispered Kate, jumping back as she recognized 
the new hero of Mount Cedar. ‘ ‘ He ’s come for 
an evening visit ! ’ ’ 

“In that case, we won’t get any of the fun, 
for he hasn’t brought Helen with him, to give 
us an excuse for going into Mrs. Hill’s parlor,” 
394 


A TERRIBLE MISTAKE, 


395 


said Margaret. ^ ^ I tried to get her here by sug- 
gesting a Saturday evening visit, when she 
would share our tableaux — but he’s all alone.” 

‘‘Look,” said Verena, “he’s reconnoitering 
the premises — what can he be after 1 There he 
goes, round the corner of the house. Let us 
run down at once and meet him accidentally as 
he comes in I ” 

‘ ‘ Hark ! ’ ’ said Fanny, ‘ ‘ do you hear that 1 ’ ’ 

A few flute notes rose upon the still autumn 
evening air, low, but sweet, and evidently drawn 
forth by a player of no mean skill. 

“ It ’s a serenade ! ’ ’ cried Kate, in an ecstasy. 
‘ ‘ Oh, girls, this is better than a visit ! Let us go 
round to that other gallery window and listen. ’ ’ 

“What about those stage dresses?” asked the 
practical Cornie. “Madame will he sending 
some one to look after us if we don’t appear 
soon.” 

‘ ‘ Then be high-minded and self-sacrificing for 
once, and carry them down for us in your fine, 
strong arms,” said Fanny; and the good- 
natured Cornie accepted the errand, though not 
without some laughing protest. 

The others, a moment after, had ensconced 
themselves, half out of sight, at the gallery 
window, heroically struggling to repress the 
peals of laughter which the delightful fact of 
the painter having come to serenade their beau- 
tiful teacher naturally called forth. 


396 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

‘‘He has chosen the wrong side of the house, 
for the Princess is in her own room this even- 
ing,^’ whispered Margaret. 

“Oh, well, you had better avail yourself of 
your relationship to go and tell him,’’ laughed 
Fanny, “or get the lady to change her quar- 
ters.” 

The prelude on the flute was ended, and the 
soft, melancholy strains of a well-known piece 
of music were caught by the listening group. 

“Beethoven’s Adelaide ! exclaimed Verena 
at once. “Hurrah ! this was what he was after, 
wanting to find out her name ! ’ ’ 

“Hush!” protested Margaret, as the flute- 
playing stopped. “He’s going to sing it, I 
know. He sings delightfully.” 

Augustine did begin to sing it, in German, 
with a rich, mellow, baritone voice that brought 
the quiet tears to Kate’s eyes. The rest were 
divided between ecstasies of laughter and enjoy- 
ment of the music; while Fanny went on, “M^at 
a wonder they don’t hear him in the parlor, hut 
there’s always such a din! Where can his 
Adelaide be ? How much she is losing ! ’ ’ 

“I mean to find out whether she knows he is 
there, for it is getting too much to be borne,” 
said Margaret, as, not without an effort, for 
she longed to stay and listen, she darted off. 

Sophie Ursula, unable to keep quiet and less 
captivated by the music, soon declared that she, 


A TERRIBLE MISTAKE. 


397 


too, must go and see why nobody semed to hear 
it but themselves. Margaret was already out 
of reach, and the gallery, seldom visited at this 
hour, was as yet lighted only by the moon. As 
usually happens when ‘‘corporation moonlight’^ 
has to be depended upon, the luminary that was 
in duty bound to cheer that portion of the dwell- 
ing now grew capricious and dipped behind a 
cloud. The Little Bear, determined that their 
friend must not have all his trouble for nothing, 
plunged boldly on, encouraged beyond her 
utmost hopes by dimly catching sight of a tall 
female figure advancing towards her, and (evi- 
dently hearing the singing, rising sweet and 
strong on the still night air) quickly approach- 
ing another window that likewise commanded 
the walk. 

‘ ‘ Oh, Miss Clive, Miss Clive, I want to speak 
to you ! ’ ’ cried Sophie at the top of her voice as 
she scudded after her, only anxious to detain 
her long enough to ensure her looking out and 
catching a glimpse of the serenader. “Please 
wait a moment! Please do look out of that 
window ! ’ ’ 

The tall figure quickened her steps. 

“Miss Clive shouted Sophie Ursula again, 
doubly eager to detain her and let the adoring 
musician become aware that his “Adelaide’^ 
was now within sight of his no-douht uplifted 
eyes as, in obedience to the loud and repeated 


398 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


summons, she approached the window and 
looked out. 

Fanny, Verena and Kate, gazing from their 
own well-chosen post of observation, at right 
angles to the other window, though at some dis- 
tance, beheld the tall, dark-haired figure lean 
over the sill for a moment, glance rapidly down 
the dusky garden, shake her head as though in 
grave disapprobation, and, to their unutterable 
dismay, close first the shutters and then the 
sash, with a vigorous and resounding bang 
which smote upon their souls. 

‘^She has sent him otf!’^ they whispered to 
each other ; and the painter was evidently of the 
same opinion, for he ceased abruptly, not even 
finishing the last stanza of the song. The three 
girls, dismayed and wondering, looked after his 
retreating form without a word. The doleful 
silence was first broken by the panic-stricken 
Sophie Ursula, who came rushing to meet them 
as they quitted their hiding-place. 

‘‘He’s gone; and it wasn’t she herself, after 
all!” was her incoherent explanation, which, 
growing clearer as it proceeded, revealed to the 
astounded Thistles (now rejoined by Margaret, 
with the unwelcome news that the Princess was 
in bed with an unwonted affliction of a bad head- 
ache) that the tall woman who had virtually 
given poor Augustine his dismissal was no 
other than Elisabeth Armstrong, who, sublimely 


A TERRIBLE MISTAKE. 


399 


unconscious of the little drama which was begin- 
ning to be played, had undertaken to over-act 
her self-imposed role of a mentor and guardian 
of the school. Hearing the music, and fancying 
that it must be from some rustic swain who 
chose to spend his Saturday evening by 
improperly sneaking into the grounds of Mount 
Cedar for the purpose of giving a serenade to 
some kitchen sweetheart. Queen Bess felt natur- 
ally inclined to nip his intended impropriety in 
the bud. 

Augustine, beholding her leaning out into the 
hazy moonlight, and hearing Miss Clive’s name 
repeatedly shouted by the Little Bear so loudly 
that it pierced his ears through all his music, 
had not unreasonably supposed the tall, com- 
manding, dark-haired figure to belong to the 
object of his admiration, especially as Elisabeth, 
who was to leave in a few days, had exchanged 
her school uniform for a dress not unlike that 
worn by her young teacher, besides twisting up 
her long locks into a mass of braids such as 
adorned the stately head of Miss Clive. All of 
which, briefly related by the despondent and yet 
half-laughing Bear to the disconsolate quartette, 
produced a sensation to be imagined. 

He ’ll come back, if he has any sense,” said 
Fanny. ^ ^ He ’ll try again. ’ ’ 

‘ ^ He ought to be told how it was all a stupid 
blunder,” groaned Kate. “Couldn’t we send 
him an anonymous postal card” 


400 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


‘‘Yes; for all the world to read/’ laughed 
Fanny, with copious suggestions as to how it 
might be worded, and in some foreign language, 
for the sake of propriety; whereat the others 
laughed, and Kate declared that agitation 
appeared to be unsettling her powers of mind. 
But the laugh helped to lighten their spirits, 
and they deemed it wise to descend to the par- 
lor, where Cornie had been at some trouble to 
account to Madame for their prolonged absence. 
Margaret felt so provoked that she almost 
resolved to acquaint her cousin with the true 
state of things ; but her usual daring failed her 
in view of the delicate nature of the subject ; and 
when they next saw Helen Livingstone, a few 
days after, they heard how the painter had 
suddenly cut short his visit, in spite of their 
entreaties to stay longer, and had gone back to 
his studio in New York. 

Kate, after much deliberation and great mis- 
givings, nerved herself to ask Elisabeth, as a 
parting act of duty, to tell Miss Clive about the 
unfortunate blunder before she left school. 
Elisabeth, after some demurring and a most 
unpleasant amount of moralizing to her sister 
upon the absurdity of a girl of her age pre- 
suming to think or care about love affairs for 
her teachers, or anybody, consented; but 'the 
interview was private, and “Queen Bess” flatly 
declined to enlighten Kate as to what had taken 


A TERRIBLE MISTAKE, 


401 


place, to her unspeakable wrath and disappoint- 
ment. 

Miss Clive, of course, never alluded to the 
matter ; but the tidings of the luckless serenade 
(which had been heard by the entire population 
of the kitchen regions) gradually got noised 
abroad among the scholars, and served to invest 
the General^ ’ with a fresh interest that proved 
invaluable just then, as she herself was for some 
time remarked for an additional sternness of 
manner, with a more than usual fondness for 
putting the Thistles, or, indeed, any culprits, 
under what Kate chose to term martial law.’’ 
Compassionately settling among themselves 
that she was naturally vexed and distressed by 
the apparently capricious departure of her 
admirer, it is satisfactory to be able to say that 
the Thistles for some time took rather more 
pains than formerly to avoid causing her 
unnecessary worry, even trying, now and then, 
to restrain the wild spirits of the younger girls. 

Verena declared, with a touch of her innate 
Magyar melancholy and superstition, that 
Augustine’s choice of Beethoven’s Adelaide” 
for a serenade was unlucky. ‘‘It struck me, 
girls, with a sort of feeling as if it meant mis- 
fortune, when I heard him begin ! You know that 
the real Adelaide was a German lady of rank, 
whose papa wouldn’t let her marry the humble 
young poet, who was only a Hauslehrer — a 


402 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 

domestic tutor — and became a country pastor, 
and married some one else, and was famed for 
bis pathetic poetry. And Adelaide became a 
canoness, and never married at all, though 
Lutheran canonesses are free to marry if they 
choose. And, when she was quite an old woman, 
a festival was arranged at the canonesses^ 
house, and some enthusiastic musician per- 
formed this piece of music in her especial 
honor’’ 

‘ ‘ Oh ! ’ ’ broke in Kate, with tears in her eyes, 
^‘and she had to sit and listen to it, and endure 
the associations, and remember everything?” 

‘‘Yes; don’t you all know how, when a set of 
romantic Germans get going, they do all kinds 
of things which it never would enter the Anglo- 
Saxon mind — more especially the American — 
to conceive of ? ” 

“Don’t I know?” exclaimed the traveled 
Margaret. “No wonder that, when he began 
singing, you took it as a bad omen; though 
there’s no social disparity in this case, and no 
papa, and no canonesses for our Princess to 
join. There’s no possible objection, for Cousin 
Augustine has a good patrimony and is getting 
on well as an artist. If they don’t end by 
making a match, it will only be their own fault.” 

So their promised romance seemed to be 
unkindly nipped by Fate in the bud; and the 
disappointed Thistles were obliged perforce to 


A TERRIBLE MISTAKE. 


403 


content themselves with the ordinary round of 
school interests, varied, as hitherto, by that 
plentiful sprinkling of mild foolishness which 
the Little Bear chose to designate by the Ger- 
man ^^Eselei/^ or ^ ‘ Donkeyishness, ’ ^ because it 
seemed as though assumed with the intention of 
causing all beholders to place the perpetrators 
thereof upon an intellectual level with the long^ 
eared objects of her constant love. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


MISCHIEF. 

B ut, as usual, the slight improvement in 
the Thistles’ conduct was not destined 
to continue very long. 

‘ ‘ Something is wrong ! ’ ’ exclaimed Miss Clive, 
one evening in November, suddenly rising from 
her seat in the long parlor. ‘ ‘ One after another 
has slipped away. Frances Fox — Margaret 
Gordon — Katharine Armstrong — Verena Fors- 
ter — none of them here ! I do not believe that 
study is at the bottom of it. ’ ’ 

And, sweeping out of the parlor with her 
usual swift, majestic pace, the ^‘General” pro- 
ceeded to the schoolroom, where a small knot of 
pupils were studying, but none of those she 
sought. Gaining no news of the missing, she 
started upon a search through the lower story, 
where several class-rooms and music-rooms 
opened into the hall. Eager but uneasy voices 
were talking in low tones from behind a closed 
door. 

^ ‘ Give her ice water, girls, and she ’ll come out 
of it.” 

‘^Take a piece of ice and rub her forehead.” 

404 


MISCHIEF. 


405 


‘ * Open that window, some of you. Shake her. 
Try to move her.’’ 

‘^Nonsense!” Fanny protested in her decided 
^^you can’t do any good. Stay here and 
try to keep quiet, while I go and look for Verena. 
She brought her into this condition and she must 
get her out of it. ’ ’ 

Hurriedly opening the door, Fanny recoiled 
at sight of her teacher, but Miss Clive’s angry 
questioning was cut short by the sight which 
met her eyes. 

Leaning back in a chair sat Julia Maxwell, 
her face rigid, her eyes fixed, but half open, and 
without a sign of consciousness. Heavily 
breathing, yet without moving a limb, she 
seemed as if spellbound, resisting the united 
efforts of half a dozen girls to arouse her. 

Miss Clive, in answer to her inquiries, heard 
that, conversation among Kate’s set having 
turned upon mesmerism, hypnotism and such 
unwholesome subjects, several of the wildest had 
jestingly proposed trying to hypnotize each 
other. Verena, to v/liom Fanny, as she now 
acknowledged, had said she looked as if she 
might prove to be a medium, soon otiered to try 
her skill upon anyone willing to venture. Kate, 
of course, had volunteered to be the first sub- 
ject, followed by Fanny, Cornie, Margaret and 
Sophie Ursula, who all, however, when ques- 
tioned, declared that they had not felt anything 


406 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


beyond a slight nervous tremor in the eyelids 
and forehead, probably caused by the near 
approach and repeated movements of the 
would-be hypnotizer^s hands. 

Here matters would probably have rested had 
not Julia Maxwell, Cecilia Morgan and some of 
their associates happened to enter the class- 
room into which the party had slipped away 
from the parlor, and, professing great interest 
in the subject, insisted that Verena should try 
her skill upon them. Cecilia’s experience 
proved as unsuccessful as that of her predeces- 
sors; but Julia, who had declared, laughing, 
that she was certain no one could ever hj^notize 
her, had in a few moments been reduced to this 
state of apparent unconsciousness. Just as the 
girls were expecting to see her awake, Verena, 
hitherto self-possessed and smiling, had sud- 
denly shown signs of great nervous excitement. 
She stopped short in her movements, raised her 
hands, fluttering the finger-tips with a spas- 
modic motion that seemed to quiver through her 
whole slight frame, and drawing in her breath 
with a sort of shiver, ending in a clenching of 
her teeth, as if struggling violently for self- 
control. Her friends gathered round her in 
alarm, but she did not recognize them, and, 
before they could stop her, had, with another 
violent and convulsive shiver and a low, wild, 
horror-stricken cry, turned away from them and 
darted from the room. 


MISCHIEF. 


407 


The girls, thinking that she would return, had 
tried to make light of the situation until their 
attempts at mirth were changed to alarm at 
Verena’s prolonged absence and the apparent 
impossibility of restoring Julia from her trance, 
even after Miss Clivers vigorous efforts to 
arouse her had been added to theirs. Cecilia, 
meanwhile, assisted by others of her own set 
(the ‘‘Nettles’^ of unenviable fame), kept hint- 
ing that she feared some sudden impulse or 
spite might have inspired Verena’s conduct; 
while the Thistles, headed by Kate, Fanny and 
Cornie, who, when excited, was no mean orator 
upon practical subjects, indignantly declared 
their Hungarian friend to be incapable of such 
meanness, and that her sudden flight must be 
owing to some failure of nervous power in her- 
self. 

Margaret Gordon and Sophie Ursula quietly 
slipped out, behind the General’s back, in 
order to beg Madame Verrier to go to the scene 
of action; after which they hurriedly departed 
on a bootless search for Verena through the 
upper stories. Kate, stammering with excite- 
ment, tried to deprecate Miss Clive’s wrath by 
beginning a wild but truthful narrative of sun- 
dry evil-minded doings of Julia’s, which Cecilia, 
of course, was ready either to defend or to deny. 
Fanny was silent, knowing well that the only 
way to diminish her teacher’s irritation was to 


408 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


let it vent itself in talk. Madame now entered 
and, loudly exclaiming, proceeded to ply Julia 
with various restoratives, which had no etfect. 
Cecilia and her friends were sent hack to the 
parlor, as they only made matters worse, while 
Fanny quietly arose and approached the door. 

Where are you going T’ sharply asked Miss 
Clive, looking up from where she sat beside 
Julia, rubbing her hands and forehead. 

‘^To find Verena,^^ calmly answered Fanny, 
looking straight into her teacher ’s eyes. ‘ ‘ Don ’t 
you know that whoever brought Julia into this 
condition is the only one who can get her out 
of it?’^ 

will go with you, Frances, for not one of 
you is to be trusted muttered Miss Clive, as, 
commending the motionless Julia to the care of 
Madame, she rose abruptly and, seizing Fanny’s 
arm, left the room. 

Cornie, Kate, Margaret and the Little Bear, 
with the rest of the uneasy Thistles, had just 
taken refuge in the school-room at their desks, 
from the shelter of which inviolable fortresses 
they stoutly denied all knowledge of Verena’s 
whereabouts. 

^‘Very well!” said Miss Clive harshly, ^^say 
what you choose. You are all in the same fix, 
remember, every one of you who joined in this 
most foolish affair to-night. You shall not feel 
much inclined to play with such edged tools very 
soon again, I can promise you.” 


MISCHIEF. 


409 


Cornie kept her eyes upon the French verbs 
she was well known never to be able to remem- 
ber for five minutes together; Kate dared not 
move a muscle; Sophie Howard, not at all dis- 
posed to giggle, sat bending over a history with 
both hands pressed to her forehead ; Margaret 
would not look up ; and the Little Bear, who had 
sought refuge at Verena’s unoccupied desk, next 
to Kate, had made a wild plunge into the study 
most hateful to her by burying herself in the 
depths of Pikers Arithmetic.’’ Even Fanny, 
still the prisoner of her teacher’s firm grasp, 
did not try to smile at her companions in mis- 
fortune as Miss Clive, after firing sundry part- 
ing shots at the delinquents, slowly stepped out 
of the room. 

^‘Frances,” she began, as they crossed the 
hall, ‘^you cannot deceive me any longer. 
You are in some plot with that wretched 
child to make trouble. Do not deny it 
any more. From Verena Forster I have 
never expected much satisfaction. But from 
you, who have been at this establishment 
for upwards of five years — you, who will soon 
be sixteen years old, and should be outgrowing 
childish tricks — who are, indeed, quite old 
enough to be confirmed and set an example to 
your classmates — I had hoped for something 
better. I see how it is. You wish to accompany 
me on a pretended search for Verena, in order 


4J0 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


to lead me off on a wrong track and give time 
for some more diabolical mischief to begin. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Miss Clive ! ’ ’ Fanny answered with dignity, 
forcibly withdrawing her arm, standing still, 
and looking, as before, straight into her 
teacher’s angry eyes. ‘‘You have a right to 
blame me for joining in this as much as those 
others, but no more. Where Verena may be at 
this moment is as unknown to me as it is to you. 
Blame us all as you will; but do us justice. I 
shall wait in the parlor, in Mrs. Hill’s presence, 
until she is found. 

And without giving the “General” time to 
recover from her surprise, Fanny turned and 
walked away towards the parlor door. 

Miss Clive, thoroughly disgusted with herself 
and her pupils (and who knows but that part of 
her irritability may have been caused by the 
recent sad blunder concerning Mr. Livingstone), 
did not care to follow, but bent her steps upon 
a solitary search, in which poor Dorinda was 
soon summoned to assist, which aid, as usual, 
consisted chiefly in serving as a vent for her 
superior’s wrath. Meanwhile the would-be 
hypnotized were whispering in the school-room 
over their books. 

“Brownie and Eose Gordon aren’t in it,” said 
Sophie Howard. ‘ ‘ That ’s one comfort ; we can ’t 
be blamed for leading the youngsters into tricks. 
And Julia’s being served right for her hateful 


MISCHIEF. 


4n 

ways; so, whether we’re punished or not, it’s 
worth it — if only Verena turns up all safe.” 

‘‘Yes,” said Kate, “if it only doesn’t turn out 
that poor Verena is the hypnotized person 
whom Julia has been fooling with a pretended 
going otf into a trance. She’s a deep, crooked 
one — ^how do we know but that her wish to be 
hypnotized wasn’t all a plan to get us well 
scared and Verena into hot water? I suspected 
her when she came in, professing to be so inter- 
ested — and more still when she seemed to go off 
so fast all at once.” 

“You’ve grown uncommonly sharp and sus- 
picious of late,” murmured Cornie. “You 
always used to be wanting to believe in every- 
body until Verena got hold of you; and now 
you’re as keen-sighted as Foxey herself.” 

“I can’t help learning to see things,” said 
Kate, pleased to find herself outgrowing her 
childish reputation for simplicity. “Julia is a 
snake, and I don’t trust her.” 

“Perhaps it was all a trick between her and 
Verena to scare us,” boldly suggested the Little 
Bear, taking her arithmetic book and venting 
her spite against it by a series of angry tosses 
in the air. 

“No!” exclaimed Kate, indignantly. 
“ Verena ’s wild enough; but she never would 
join with Julia for such a wretched, mean trick 
as that.” 


412 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


^^Hem! Ahem!^^ significantly grunted the 
Bear, with a meaning glance at Margaret and 
an equally meaning shake of her tawny mane in 
the direction of Kate. shall be fourteen 
early in January, and Verena and Kate will be 
fifteen — and Margaret, too — so it ’s getting time 
for us to have some sense, though it doesn’t 
seem to develop quite in the General’s line. 
I don’t want to grow any older; I hate 
^ womanly girls, ’ who are stiff, and mature, and 
want to be like young ladies several years too 
soon. I get fearfully bored, just as you do, 
Margaret, when Helen comes here, and we’re 
expected to sit still, and converse about lessons, 
and improving books, with one or two of our 
commanders looking on. I detest stiff, draw- 
ing-room company ; I like somebody who wants 
to run about in the garden and gymnasium — 
Helen can’t learn how to swing on the rings to 
save her life ! — and be like one of ourselves. I 
do hate all kinds of heavy, made-up conversa- 
tion for the sake of entertaining people.” 

^^So do I!” broke in Margaret. ^‘I’m hap- 
pier almost anywhere than in a parlor. I like 
libraries, or studios, or quiet sitting-rooms 
where we can occupy ourselves in some con- 
genial way without being observed.” 

^‘Yes,” continued the Bear. ^H’m hap- 
pier anywhere than in a parlor, except, of 
course, a dentist’s chair or the school-room when 


MISCHIEF. 


413 


arithmetic is going on. That^s the Hime that 
tries my sonl.’ 

^‘The Bear mayn’t shine in arithmetic,” said 
Kate, ‘^hut Foxey says she can go ahead fast 
enough in anything else, if she chooses to try.” 

^^Compliments are worth double from that 
quarter,” laughed Sophie Ursula. ^‘Oh, Mar- 
garet, you should have been here last winter, 
when I suggested to some Thistles that we 
should lay our prickly heads together and con- 
coct a charming letter, to hoax the editor of that 
juvenile magazine which Mrs. Hill takes for us. 
We pretended to he some little girls from a 
farm in Pennsylvania, who wanted information 
about Hhe best Boarding SkooP in New Eng- 
land, where the ^skollers’ took turns to do the 
housework as a cheap way of getting an educa- 
tion. We spelt it in delightfully phonetic Eng- 
lish, full of simple questions about the ‘skool,’ 
and begged them to recommend us some book 
of poetry, because our Aunt Keziah, or some- 
body, didn’t approve of our reading ^nowils.’ 
Oh, such fun ! ” 

^^And you really sent it?” put in Margaret. 
‘ ‘ Why wasn ’t I here ? ’ ’ 

^^Of course we sent it — and we did hoax that 
editor gloriously; for he swallowed it, every 
word, and devoted nearly half a column in the 
^Answers to Correspondents’ to a reply, and 
called us Mear little girls,’ and recommended 


4J4 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


some goody-goody book of selections in verse. 
And, oh! wouldn’t they have felt ready to mur- 
der us if they could have seen how we managed 
to get the next number, when it arrived, and 
rushed off to the gjunnasium to look for our 
answer, and found it, and laughed till we rolled 
on the floor. ’ ’ 

Miss Almira, her day’s work ended, was sit- 
ting in her small sanctum upon the ground floor, 
writing to her sister, when she was suddenly 
startled by the quick opening of the door and 
the sound of footsteps behind her chair. 
Glancing round, half-suspecting some trick, she 
beheld the small, thin form of the Hungarian, 
looking boy-like with her short black locks 
parted at one side, and curling all over her 
head — staggering forward, both hands ex- 
tended, till she leaned against the table for 
support. 

^‘What is the matter, dear child?” asked the 
Dragon in a soft tone, for Verena’s strange 
conduct and foreign looks led Almira, who had 
a strong vein of idealism in the depths of her 
sorely-repressed nature, to consider her as a 
being to be differently judged from the others. 

There was no answer, but the child, breathing 
heavily, slowly raised herself from her leaning 
posture, gasped, pressed one hand to her heart, 
and, trying to reach the sofa, sank beside it on 


MISCHIEF. 


4J5 


her knees. Miss Almira, thoroughly alarmed, 
ran to Verena, lifted her upon the lounge, and. 
fearing that she was going to faint, opened 
another door and called two of the maids from 
the kitchen, hard by. Verena murmured some- 
thing unintelligible, while Almira and the 
women gave her water and bathed her fore- 
head. 

^‘Who has been teasing you?’’ she asked, in 
astonished anxiety, as the girl, though quite 
conscious, lay still, with half-closed eyes. 
Almira seated herself beside her, softly passing 
her fingers over the dark clustering curls, care- 
fully observing the fine smoothness of the olive- 
tinted skin, the clear-cut features and exquis- 
itely molded mouth. This orphan child from 
a far-off country seemed the embodiment of all 
those vague dreams of ^‘something rich and 
strange” which had haunted the plain, hard- 
worked teacher through her many years of 
struggling life. As she bent above the Hun- 
garian girl, soothing her with quiet sympathy 
shown less by words than gestures, Almira felt 
more than ever weighed down beneath the end- 
less, hopeless burden of her own painful, com- 
monplace, unimportant existence — face to face 
with this flower of brilliant youth. If she could 
have been like this — and she checked the thought 
as sinful, sure that it would be condemned by 
her friends at the Methodist chapel which she 


4J6 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


had joined in her longing for more emotion 
than could be found in the hard Calvinism of 
her early life. Yet if Providence — but here 
her mind underwent a fresh shock as the door 
leading to the hall suddenly opened and Miss 
Clive, followed by Dorinda, entered in most 
stately wrath, leaving the door wide open, as if 
to show her determination to assert herself and 
discover what might be going on inside. 

^ ^ So ! ’ ^ she began dryly, surveying the group 
by the sofa, where Verena still lay without 
speaking. ‘‘A precious piece of work, Verena 
Forster, you have made to-night! And you, 
Almira, are petting her, and encouraging her 
in her horrid tricks, are you ? ’ ^ 

‘‘I know nothing about her tricks,’^ Almira 
replied shortly. was here, supposing that 
you had the school-room in charge, when this 
child burst in and sank down in the state you 
see her in now. She could not even tell me what 
had happened. Of course I supposed some one 
had been frightening her.” 

‘Mt is she who has been frightening other 
people,” said Miss Clive, trying to hold back 
Dorinda, who had knelt down to examine 
Verena ’s face. ^^What must she do, in her 
abominable malice, but hypnotize Julia Max- 
well, and, as soon as she had made her uncon- 
scious, what must she do but run away and 
leave her lying there. Let her alone, Almira; 


MISCHIEF. 


4J7 


she's just what your church people call a limb 
of Satan," wound up the excited head-teacher, 
completely overmastered by her wrath. 

‘^Limb of Satan or not, she’s a poor, nervous, 
shattered orphan child, who has been hardly 
used somewhere, or somehow,’’ exclaimed 
Almira in turn, her sympathies fully roused. 

don’t know, or care, what she’s been doing 
out there with you! I only know that I mean 
to give her the help she seemed to need when 
she staggered in at this door.’’ 

‘‘Help or not,’’ returned Miss Clive, “you 
must make her get back to where that other girl 
is lying, in a state far worse than this. You 
had better reserve some of your pity for her!’^ 

Almira, by degrees comprehending the situa- 
tion, bestirred herself by plying Verena with 
restoratives until she was able to sit up. Miss 
Clive, scolding and helping, brought a glass of 
brandy and water, which she held to her pupil’s 
lips, commanding her, in no gentle voice, to 
swallow it at once. Verena languidly sipped 
a few drops ; then, in mingled anger, disgust and 
a certain delirious weakness, turned aside her 
head, and, striking the glass, contrived to dash 
it upon the floor. 

“Her head is confused; she hardly knows 
what we mean,’’ protested Almira; while the 
maids gathered up the broken glass. 

‘ ‘ She ’ll soon find out what I mean, ’ ’ said Miss 


27 


4J8 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

Clive, standing erect and angrily quivering the 
fingers of each hand hanging by her side. ‘ ‘ Go 
back into that room she shall and try to undo 
her vile mischief, even if Jake and Sandy have 
to carry her there on that sofa. ^ ^ 

Almira, without a word, rose from her seat 
by the girl, whom she gently and quickly raised 
in her strong arms and stood holding, ready 
to go. 

‘‘Show the way,’^ she said calmly. “I will 
carry her. ’ ’ 

Miss Clive frowned, but silently left the room, 
and headed the procession, whose rear was 
brought up by Dorinda and the two maids, till 
they reached the class-room, where Madame still 
kept an anxious watch over Julia, apparently 
as unconscious as before. 

“There said Miss Clive, pointing to Julia. 
“See what your malice and wickedness has 
done ! See whether you are able to undo it.’^ 

Verena, whose sudden weakness, the result 
of her rash and ignorant expenditure of nervous 
energy in trying, however unsuccessfully, to 
hypnotize several girls, had come upon her, 
together with a certain mental confusion, when 
she rushed away with no definite intention save 
of hiding herself until recovered, lay still, with 
closed eyes, upon the shoulder of Miss Almira, 
who gently slid her down upon the fioor, sup- 
porting her with both hands. 


MISCHIEF, 


419 


^^Elle est trop faible, pauvre petite!’’ mur- 
mured Madame, eyeing Verena compassion- 
ately as she, with some difficulty, stood upright 
and, supported by Almira and Dorinda, and by 
degrees comprehending what was wanted, tried 
to reverse the passes” with unsteady fingers, 
though for some minutes entirely without suc- 
cess. 

Wretched failure!” growled Miss Clive, 
shall send for the doctor.” 


CHAPTEE XXVI. 


UNEXPECTED VARIETIES. 

M eanwhile Kate and Margaret, who 
had finished their studies and found 
the stillness of the school-room unen- 
durable, resolved, in the absence of all teachers 
(some of whom had gone to spend this Friday 
evening with friends in the town), to start on 
a private search for Yerena in sundry nooks 
and corners hitherto unexplored. The Little 
Bear, still puzzling over her sums, could not 
accompany them ; the other Thistles were occu- 
pied, and their presence might only have com- 
plicated matters further. Quietly slipping out, 
afraid to venture near the class-room to which 
the Hungarian had just been carried, they 
looked into every other small room on that floor, 
passed through the Dragon’s Den,” still bear- 
ing traces of some commotion, and ran into the 
kitchen, then occupied only by the colored cook 
and old Jake. 

The latter, thankful for Sandy’s temporary 
absence, sat slowly endeavoring to read a tract 
to his ally, the cook. Coming, as usual, to a 
halt at every fourth word, his eyes brightened 
420 


UNEXPECTED VARIETIES. 


42 t 


at seeing ‘‘Miss Katie, who did not, however, 
offer to read to him, hut dashed his hopes by 
asking him and the cook to join in searching 
their premises, nearly all of which had been 
examined when the girls and their assistants 
paused beside a closed pantry door. 

“Don’t go in. Missies,” said the cook. “De 
Ghost lives in it.” 

“Does lief” cried Margaret, delighted. “I 
didn’t know we had one here. How charming! 
What does he do f ” 

“Eattles in de tin pans at night,” solemnly 
answered the woman, while Kate, bursting with 
laughter at her words and Jake’s frightened 
face, exclaimed, “All the more fun!” and Mar- 
garet, despite the old cook’s entreaties, snatched 
the candle from her hand and opened the door. 

The light displayed at first only a large store- 
room, filled with various articles in constant 
use. Margaret, valiantly inclined to search the 
whole place, less in hopes of finding Verena 
than from a love of adventure, lifted the candle 
as high as possible, while they peeped behind 
the numerous barrels and boxes. Suddenly 
Kate uttered a slight scream, and Margaret, 
turning round, almost dropped her candle as 
its flickering light fell upon a dark figure slowly 
rising from behind a flour barrel in the corner 
farthest from the door. 

It was not Verena, hut a thick-set, disreputa- 


422 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


ble though quite sober-looking man, who, finding 
himself about to be discovered, saw fit to con- 
front the two girls with a very bulldog-like, 
unpleasant face. 

^‘What are you doing here?^^ asked Margaret, 
trembling, but restrained from instant flight by 
the comforting sense of the nearness of her two 
colored allies and a vision of the shame of 
cowardice and of the glory to be won among 
teachers and scholars by braving the robber, if 
such he were, with an undaunted countenance. 

wants a night’s lodgin’,’^ growled the 
stranger sulkily. ain’t a-goin’ for to steal 
or to hurt ye’s. I wants somethin’ for to eat.” 

Jake and the cook, hearing a human voice 
proceeding, as they doubtless supposed, from 
the ghost, uttered loud exclamations, redoubled 
when Kate dashed out, almost into the cook’s fat 
arms ; while Margaret, still grasping the candle, 
quickly followed. Breath for explanations 
almost failed them at first, but the emergency 
was sufficiently understood for Jake to bang the 
pantry door tight and turn the key. 

‘Ms there a window? Can he get out any 
other way?” gasped the girls as they sank upon 
chairs, feeling rather more frightened than at 
first. 

“No, Miss Katie,” said the cook, “nuthin’ but 
a tiny winder a-lookin’ into de hall. He’s 
cotched safe enuf, praise de Lord!” 


UNEXPECTED VARIETIES. 


423 


panted Margaret, as he took the 
candle from her shaking hand, ''call Sandy— 
tell Miss Almira — get somebody else here, 
quick ! ’ ^ 

Jake’s reluctance to leave lest the intruder 
should break loose was cut short by the oppor- 
tune arrival of Sandy, who marched in with a 
bevy of two or three rival sweethearts, all 
highly excited by the news and by the young 
ladies’ startled looks. Sandy, declaring that 
the man, for aught they knew, might be in 
league with others to break into the house, 
posted himself, armed with his pistol and a stout 
stick, at the pantry door, ready to secure the 
prisoner should he attempt to escape. Kate 
and Margaret, somewhat recovered and eager to 
be the first to carry the news of this unpleasant 
novelty to the authorities of Mount Cedar, left 
the now well-garrisoned kitchen and hastened 
back to the room where the hynotizing had taken 
place. Fanny, whose first anger at her teacher’s 
unjust accusation had passed into active desire 
to expedite matters for the benefit of all con- 
cerned, had gone to Mrs. Hill and privately 
informed her of the whole, confessing her own 
share and asserting that the unlucky experi- 
ment had arisen from her own suggestion. 
Sorely distressed, but more inclined to blame 
Verena than Fanny, Mrs. Hill, after placing a 
senior pupil in charge of the parlor, hurried to 


424 THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 

the room where the Hungarian, having made 
another unsuccessful effort to awaken Julia, was 
being ruthlessly and uninterruptedly lectured 
by Miss Clive. 

^‘Verena,’^ said Mrs. Hill, earnestly, ^4s the 
first use that you make of your arm that was 
broken to be thisT’ 

Verena, thoroughly exhausted, made no 
answer, but burst into tears, still sitting between 
Dorinda and Miss Almira, while Miss Clive, 
hanging over Julia, began a fresh reproof, 
which was cut short by the sudden entrance of 
Margaret and Kate. Bushing in like a whirl- 
wind, they shrieked wildly to poor Mrs. Hill, 
one on each side : 

<< There’s a robber in the house — shut up in 
the kitchen pantry — we both saw him — Sandy’s 
with a pistol at the door” 

‘^Silence!” commanded Miss Clive, shaking 
Kate roughly by the arm. ‘‘Do you expect to 
make a diversion by a silly new trick like this f ’ ’ 

“It’s no trick. He’s there 1^’ protested Mar- 
garet. ‘ ‘ Ask them in the kitchen. We saw him 
among the barrels. Mrs. Hill, it’s all true !” 

The alarm had been heard in the parlor, 
whence now issued a troop of eager, curious, 
nervous, or giggling girls. Fanny Fox dashed 
forward. 

“Kate and Margaret always tell the truth. 
Let me try to help Julia while Miss Clive goes 


UNEXPECTED VARIETIES. 


425 


to find out/^ she besought of Mrs. Hill; but no 
pleading was necessary, for the General, 
sublimely indignant at this new interruption, 
and inclined to suspect the whole race of school- 
girls, had marched out, followed by Miss 
Almira, leaving the two invalids in Mrs. Hill’s 
and Madame Verrier’s charge. Margaret and 
Kate, beginning to feel more agitated than they 
had done at sight of the stranger, implored and 
finally obtained leave to accompany their 
teachers to the scene of fresh disturbance, and, 
with Fanny between them, slowly traversed the 
hall, agreeably conscious of the half-wondering, 
half-admiring looks bestowed upi J. them by the 
other girls, who vainly asked permission to 
follow. 

Miss Clive, when overtaken by the pair, stood 
holding a dispute with Miss Almira in front of 
the door guarded by Sandy, whom the ^‘Gen- 
eral” wished to enter the pantry and capture 
the intruder. Almira prudently suggested that 
it might be better to keep him there, locked up, 
while Jake should go for the police at once; 
whereat Miss Clive, angry at everybody, amid 
a great deal of grumbling from the excited 
servants, whom, with Kate and Margaret, she 
roundly accused of having only fancied that 
there was any man there at all, called for a 
short step-ladder, and, candle in hand, mounted 
to take a survey of the interior of the pantry 


426 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


through the small window looking into the pas- 
sage. A faint light from the kitchen shone 
through a large open ventilator on top of the 
pantry door and dimly illuminated the crowded 
interior. The girls, almost afraid lest the man 
might have somehow escaped or hidden so as to 
deprive them of the fame of having found him, 
had hard work to repress a smile as they saw 
Miss Clive look in, start, exclaim and descend 
with a jerk nearly ending in a tumble, while 
she curtly ordered Jake to get out the cart and 
go for the police at once. 

^^Ah!’’ Miss Almira could not help saying, 
^ ^ so you saw him, too ? ^ ’ 

Almira Quackenbos ! ’ ’ retorted the irate 
head-teacher, turning round and still more 
angry at the sight of Margaret’s laughing eyes 
and Kate’s amused face. Remember that you 
are the housekeeper of this establishment, and, 
if any knavery or carelessness among the 
servants has enabled rogues to sneak into the 
house, the responsibility must rest upon you. ’ ’ 

Almira, feeling that she could afford to let 
Miss Clive vent her useless irritation, made no 
reply, but accompanied her grinning pupils back 
to the class-room. / erena reclined drowsily in 
an arm-chair, but Julia appeared much better, 
able to go slowly up to bed, supported by Mrs, 
Hill and Miss Clive, who peremptorily ordered 
Almira and Dorinda to help Verena to reach 


UNEXPECTED VARIETIES, 


427 


the dormitory and undress. Kate and Mar- 
garet, much relieved, went with Fanny into the 
parlor, where they instantly became the center 
of an eager crowd. 

‘ ‘ Such fun ! ^ ’ was Cornie ^s verdict upon the 
evening’s adventures. ‘‘Trying to be hypno- 
tized and seeing Julia take on so (if it wasn’t 
all a sham), and finding a real, live robber in 
the house. Girls, how I envy you for being the 
ones to find him. Madame has been praising 
your courage in not being more frightened and 
saying how much we all owe to you. ’ ’ 

“ Oh ! ” cried Margaret, ‘ ‘ lie did not even offer 
to attack us, and if he had he would soon have 
been overpowered by stout old Susan and our 
lean but wiry J ake. He didn ’t come within ten 
feet of us. However, if we can be heroines for 
something virtuous, let us make the most of it ! ” 

Kate, though beginning to feel terribly 
exhausted, was, in other respects, perfectly 
happy, surrounded by a chorus of exclamations 
of terror at the thought of the robber and 
praises of herself and Margaret, who almost 
wished that their nerve might have been more 
severely tried for the sake of the renown sure 
to follow. Eose Gordon and a troop of the most 
excitable rushed to watch from the windows for 
the arrival of the police, who came in due time, 
and took the man into custody. He turned out 
to be a “crook” already well known to them, 


428 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


who had recently escaped from the jail of a 
neighboring county and had somehow contrived 
to steal indoors and secrete himself at Mount 
Cedar that afternoon. 

Julia having ‘gone to bed, with Mrs. Hill 
watching over her, and Verena safe in her 
alcove under the gentle charge of Miss Dorinda, 
the ^‘General’’ felt free to descend to the 
‘ ‘ Dragon’s Den, ’ ’ where, with the door open into 
the kitchen, she awaited the coming of the police, 
curtly dismissing Almira with an order to go 
and read prayers in her stead. It would have 
been wiser to have sent one of the maids to sit 
beside Julia and thereby enable Mrs. Hill to go 
down into the parlor; but Miss Clive’s mind for 
once was in a whirl, and Madame Yerrier, 
whose Parisian tongue, although sufficient for 
very simple English conversation with the 
servants, would have wrought sad havoc with 
the language for devotional purposes, was 
thankful when the entrance of her humble col- 
league relieved her from the arduous task of 
trying to keep the girls’ excited spirits within 
bounds, for, with few exceptions, the entire 
eighty-odd would talk of nothing save ghosts, 
robbers, hypnotism and the supernatural until 
an epidemic terror threatened to be the result. 

Kate, who had a bad nervous headache, but 
on no account would have mentioned it and run 
the risk of being forthwith marched otf to bed, 


UNEXPECTED VARIETIES. 


429 


sat with Margaret, in the midst of the Thistles, 
drinking in fresh tributes to their valor, when, 
somewhat to her dismay, she saw Almira enter, 
involuntarily recalling how Verena on her 
arrival had been told by Fanny to be thankful 
that it was not her office to read prayers, or she 
would certainly have put in a petition for the 
new scholar as ^Hhis precious child now com^ 
mitted to our charge, who would have felt 
ready to sink through the floor. Miss Clive 
obliged the girls during prayers to kneel per- 
fectly upright, in long parallel rows upon the 
carpet, their eyes closed and hands clasped, like 
statues on a monument, having established this 
‘Spraying drill,’’ as some irreverently termed it, 
in order to prevent the laughing or whispering 
only too likely to be carried on if they had been 
allowed to kneel comfortably, with their elbows 
upon chairs and their backs towards the 
authorities. Madame, this evening the only 
teacher present besides Almira, occupied a 
position directly opposite to her troop of 
scholars, and encircled by her own especial 
choir, at the organ, while the arm-chair usually 
tenanted by Mrs. Hill was taken by Miss Almira, 
a more than ordinary sternness and thoughtful- 
ness upon her brow. 

Kate, full of the pleasing necessity of keeping 
up her role of one who had helped to save the 
rest from probable peril, most virtuously 


430 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


resisted taking notice of Cornie^s half-percep- 
tible nudge when, the usual evening prayers 
ended, Miss Almira, after a brief but very bash- 
ful pause, instead of giving out the hymn, to 
the horror of poor Madame and the mingled 
surprise and amusement of the pupils launched 
forth into an extemporaneous petition, or rather 
oration, wherein, while purporting to give 
thanks, she mixed up the different events of the 
evening in a style which would have sorely tried 
the self-control of an adult audience, and proved 
irresistible to a set of school-girls. Excited 
already, the sudden novelty caused countless 
faint titterings to be smothered with an effort 
as one after another of the scholars glanced up 
to behold poor Miss Almira’s woe-begone 
countenance, her arms waving to and fro as she 
stood bolt upright, having started from her 
knees with a sort of involuntary jerk when the 
usual prayers were over. The girls, awaiting 
the signal to rise by the announcement of the 
hymn, kept motionless in wonder, though, as 
Fanny said afterwards, they should have fol 
lowed Almira’s example by starting up if their 
brains had not seemed spellbound. 

Poor Miss Almira ! A little tact would have 
enabled the good-hearted creature to avoid 
e^fposing herself to the ridicule of her astounded 
pupils, who had to hearken as best they might 
to a series of strangely worded phrases, pro- 


UNEXPECTED VARIETIES. 


431 


fessing to be prayer, but describing the adven- 
tures of Verena and others, until even quiet 
Brownie stared in open-eyed amazement, and 
the woeful giggling from sundry quarters would 
certainly have drawn down Almira ’s wrath had 
she been able to heed anything save the torrent 
of words issuing from her own lips. Madame, 
divided between surprise and the painful effort 
to comprehend English employed in such 
peculiar fashion, scarcely looked at her scholars. 

Margaret, already agreeably supplied with 
material for her next letter to her cousin, Helen 
Palmer ( now traveling in Europe and eager for 
news of Mount Cedar), kept consoling herself 
for the long, painful kneeling upon the floor by 
treasuring up all phases of this novelty as sure 
to create a sensation; while Kate, likewise, at 
first enjoyed thinking how she should win appro- 
bation from even her uncle and Queen Bess by a 
thrilling account of this memorable evening in 
her next letter home. Desperately inclined to 
laugh, she grew perforce graver as the 
rambling, interminable prayer went on. 
Already exhausted, she was all at once seized 
with a sudden giddy faintness and oppression, 
a fluttering at the heart that made her gasp for 
breath. Her first thought, that she might be 
going to swoon and be more of a heroine than 
ever, yielded to terror at the strange, sickening 
sensations gaining upon her with every moment. 


432 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


All that she knew about fainting had been 
chiefly gathered from stories and theatricals; 
she had scarcely been allowed to see Verena 
when she had swooned after her accident. She 
had a vague impression that it must be a very 
simple, easy affair, unaccompanied by any acute 
suffering. Oh, if she could only close her eyes, 
and sink gently, gracefully forward, as people 
did on the stage! — how fine it would be to ‘‘go 
off^^ and lie unconscious for some time, as 
Verena had done — it was just one of those 
things which seemed romantic and never likely 
to happen to Kate herself. 

But this dreadful choking and dizziness, this 
loud ringing in her ears and dazzling sparks 
of fire floating up and blinding her eyes until 
Miss Almira’s figure opposite seemed to dilate 
into a giantess and dance about — what did it 
mean? Perhaps she might be sickening with 
some contagious disease and might have to be 
put into the infirmary for weeks, or be sent 
home to her uncle’s, where she was sure to be 
made to feel that she was giving entirely too 
much trouble. Christmas was approaching, and 
Kate’s fancy was secretly busied with a dra- 
matic attempt in English, which she hoped to 
write, and get acted, before the holidays. The 
thought of all this was intolerable. And still 
poor, mistaken Miss Almira kept pouring forth 
her endless stream of words. 


UNEXPECTED VARIETIES. 


433 


The tittering behind grew louder. Kate felt 
as though she were being hypnotized in earnest, 
as though all her own strength of will and self- 
control were leaving her, and passing into a 
mad, uncontrollable impulse to shriek and fling 
herself upon the floor, blended, even then, with 
the ludicrous conviction that, if she did so, the 
Thistles would never stop saying that she had 
adopted camp-meeting manners for the occa- 
sion. To be prayed for — she and Margaret — 
like any hysterical country lasses at a conven- 
ticle! Almira went on to speak of Verena, 
though not by name, in language wherein genu- 
ine good feeling mingled most strangely with 
the phraseology which she had been taught to 
consider proper for a prayer, until Kate, what 
between wanting to laugh and wanting to catch 
every word for her friend ^s future benefit, began 
to think that even a good fainting fit might be 
too dearly purchased if she had to miss hearing 
the whole. Cornie was quivering with half- 
choked laughter at her elbow, and Margaret, on 
the other side, nearly set off Kate by whisper- 
ing, ‘^She’ll keep us here all night, on our 
wretched, stiff knees, to pay us up for all our 
sins, until she^s done informing Providence of 
what has happened and what she expects Provi- 
dence to do.^' 

Perhaps, in her heart, Kate may have sym- 
pathized a little with poor Almira’s eagerness 


28 


434 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


to improve tliis rare opportunity for asserting 
herself, seeing how sadly limited was her 
ordinary sphere. But even this feeling was put 
to flight when she heard herself and Margaret 
mentioned as the beloved pupils who had merci- 
fully been selected to become the instruments 
for averting great perils to the school. Much as 
she loved acting, singing, reciting and coming 
forward in anything dramatic, Kate now suf- 
fered agonies of shamefacedness sufficient tq 
atone for almost any amount of previous vanity, 
feeling her cheeks burn hotter and hotter, envy- 
ing the amused coolness of Margaret at her side. 
This was, indeed, a way of ‘‘renowning it’^ 
which had never crossed her imagination, and 
she underwent enough mortification to have 
satisfied Julia & Co. in their most evil moods 
as her eighty schoolmates, opening their eyes 
still wider, turned towards herself and Mar- 
garet with a fresh outburst of subdued tittering 
that sounded piercingly through the ringing in 
her ears. 

Wliatever happened she must not faint now. 
All those girls would say she was conscience- 
stricken, or else shamming, in order to cut Miss 
Almira’s praying short. She longed to fling 
her arms round Margaret, as her fellow- 
sufferer, and have a good cry. It was intoler- 
able! Miss Almira wound up with a petition 
for Julia’s recovery, but Kate’s faculties began 


UNEXPECTED VARIETIES. 


435 


to fail, and she hardly caught the words. Her 
bodily giddiness passed into a sort of mental 
stupor in which everything seemed unreal and 
like a painful dream. She heard the murmur 
from Almira’s lips, heard it cease, caught a 
dizzy glimpse of the girls’ forms rising and 
wavering; hut her own limbs were powerless, 
and, just as Miss Clive entered the room, having 
seen the man taken off by the police, Kate, utter- 
ing a wild cry and vainly trying to cling to Mar- 
garet, sank down and lay unconscious on the 
floor. 

There was no hymn sung at Mount Cedar that 
evening. Miss Clive, boiling over with blame 
for Almira, whom she justly accused of having 
caused this fresh worry by her abominable 
Methodistical holding forth, the last words 
whereof had smote upon her unwilling ears as 
she opened the door, dismissed the scholars to 
their beds, and, with Madame ’s aid, in a few 
minutes succeeded in reviving Kate, who 
unclosed her eyes to find herself alone with her 
two teachers, full of anxiety, displayed by vigor- 
ous but ungentle ministrations from Miss Clive 
and great tenderness on the part of Madame, 
who assisted her upstairs, undressed her, and 
contrived to maintain perfect order among the 
excited occupants of the dormitory, where 
Verena had fallen into a heavy sleep. 


436 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


Kate was so worn ont that she soon slept, and 
with Verena, who seemed rather drooping, was 
excused from her studies the next morning. 
Julia, on the contrary, awoke perfectly well, and 
in no way the worse for her so-called hypnotic 
trance, the genuineness whereof remained a 
matter of great doubt among the majority of 
her schoolmates, whose suspicions were much 
increased by the frequent bursts of laughter 
heard issuing during recess from her little room, 
whither she had retired with her chosen circle. 
Verena, who had really acted in perfect good 
faith towards Julia, profited by these doubts, 
inasmuch as they caused a reaction in her own 
favor, while Fanny declared that both the Hun- 
garian and herself ought to receive a vote of 
thanks for starting the hypnotic experiment 
which had indirectly led to the discovery of the 
intruder. Julia, as the Dragon would express 
it, has become an instrument therein by serving 
to scare Verena into running otf; so there’s 
good brought out of evil, and oh, girls, look 
here ! The General has found out that I was not 
deceiving her, so she has made me the amende 
in this characteristic note : 

‘Mount Cedar Seminary, Nov. — , 18 — . 

“ ‘Frances Edith Fox: 

“ ‘You were right that evening. I was wrong. 
I am sorry to have doubted your word. 

“ ‘Adelaide Helen Clive.’ ” 


CHAPTER XXVIL 


A PHANTOM MASQUERADE. 

T he last Saturday in November found Kate 
Armstrong, instead of joining in the 
noontide exercise out of doors, quietly 
stealing up to her alcove and carefully drawing 
the curtain across the doorway to prevent 
intrusion. Curling herself up on the bed in 
a sitting iDosture, she drew from her pocket 
many pieces of paper scribbled over in pencil, 
and made a frantic effort to induce an unpro- 
pitious muse to smile upon her work. 

Her cherished secret hope of securing a repe- 
tition of the Cloister in the Forest had been 
abandoned. There were many reasons. All of 
those elder girls who had sustained the 
grown-up characters had left Mount Cedar, so 
that a new set would have had to be drilled in 
their place. The play itself was long, with 
scenic arrangements requiring time and trouble. 
No one, in fact, except Verena, Sophie Ursula 
and Margaret seemed disposed to make the 
effort, while the sensitive dramatist was 
inwardly much vexed by some innocent juvenile 
suggestions that it might be very nice to give 

437 


438 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


the first two acts and the dances, omitting the 
whole latter portion about the cloister, which 
they found rather heavy and only suited to the 
elder girls. Even the kindly Schulzes failed 
to encourage Kate in her half-expressed desire ; 
and so, while appearing content to rest upon her 
laurels, she soon turned her thoughts towards 
something very different. 

This new attempt, though in English, had 
given her far more trouble than the German 
fantasia, written in prose. Her young head, 
turned by the momentary success of her little 
drama, was now brimming over with the plan 
of a romantic play founded upon the history of 
the Eakotsky family, about whom she had 
recently been reading in a book upon Hungary 
belonging to her friend. Her chief reason was 
that Fanny and Verena were admirably suited, 
both in size and looks, to the roles of the young 
sister and brother, Juliana and Francis Rakot- 
sky, while for their beautiful widowed mother 
she had mentally selected Miss Clive, who on 
rare occasions had been induced to undertake a 
part otherwise hard to fill. For herself Kate 
had invented a role unmentioned in history, but 
fitting into her play in the shape of a noble Ger- 
man boy, a friend of Francis Eakotsky, who 
was, of course, to bear some heroic and romantic 
share in his sorrows, and (like Margaret and 
Sophie Ursula, for whom parts were to be writ- 
ten) to come to some heroic and romantic end. 


A PHANTOM MASQUERADE. 439 

The historical drama, and in blank verse, 
proved, as might have been expected, rather too 
tough an undertaking for a would-be dramatist 
not yet fifteen. In vain did Kate devote all her 
spare time for reading, and much that should 
have been spent in outdoor exercise, to working 
herself up into a state of poetic enthusiasm 
about young Francis Rakotsky (afterwards 
famed as the hero of ‘ ^ Rakotsky ’s March, ’ ’ and 
one of the boldest of Hungarian rebels against 
the Austrians) and his beautiful sister, whom 
their wicked enemy, the Cardinal, tore away 
from her mother and shut up in a convent — 
and their stern old Catholic grandmother, 
Sophia Bathori, who led her Protestant 
daughter-in-law such a hard life in the castle of 
Munkacs — and their stepfather. Count Emeric 
Tokolyi, who wanted to carry off his young 
stepson to the wars, despite his mother’s tears. 

She desired, of course, to write the deepest 
tragedy, but found this, or even the most 
ordinary dialogue quite impossible for her to 
handle with any ease when deprived of the 
scenic and supernatural accessories which 
enlivened her first performance. In vain she 
summoned the latter element to her aid by 
making the ghost of the noble Rakotsky pere^ 
and also the spirit of his wife ’s brave ancestor. 
Count Zrinyi (the hero of Korner’s tragedy) 
appear to the wicked Cardinal and the hard 


440 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


stepfather. In vain did she gratify to the 
utmost her passion for lying dead upon the 
stage and for romantic swoonings. Alas ! 
Melpomene absolutely declined to bestow her 
patronage upon Kate Armstrong. As she 
would have expressed it, her ^‘Donkey on Par- 
nassus ^ ’ proved more obstinate than a Kentucky 
mule, and would not go. 

The worst of it was that the Thistles divined 
that she was composing; while Fanny, with her 
usual diabolical sharpness, had nicknamed Kate 
the ‘^Tragic Muse.’^ So the said muse, after 
some time wasted in writing, reading over, 
re-writing, tearing up and scratching out, con- 
cluded that it was of no use to try to work 
to-day, and gathered up her papers together, 
resolved to see whether the brisk run in the gar 
den, which she should have taken ere now, would 
help to stimulate the languid flow of her inven- 
tion. 

The garden seemed to be deserted by her chief 
friends, and the tragic poet was compelled to 
seek distraction in jumping rope with the 
younger girls. Just as the violent exercise was 
beginning to restore a more healthy tone to her 
over-excited nerves she was startled, when 
standing with her head thrown back and elbows 
squared, ready to ‘ ^ run in backdoor, ’ ’ by hearing 
Brownie calling to her, with a message from the 
Thistles to join them in the gymnasium at a 
meeting of importance. 


A PHANTOM MASQUERADE. 


441 


‘‘Don’t be afraid,” said Brownie, seeing her 
hesitation. “Mrs. Hill knows all about it.” 

Keassnred, but still anxious, Kate raced after 
Brownie up into the gymnasium, where Verena, 
now fully recovered, was sitting with Fanny 
upon the horizontal bars,' while Margaret and 
the Little Bear were running an aerial race 
upon the rings. Kate vented her own restless- 
ness by traversing the room upon the third row 
of rings, landing beside Fanny, while the others 
quickly gathered round her. 

“Kate,” began “Foxey,” solemnly yet with 
more than the usual merry twinkle in her dark 
eyes; “we Thistles all know perfectly well 
that you are engaged in another dramatic elfort 
for our general edification, and we also feel 
assured that the aforesaid effort is of the most 
deeply dismal nature. Therefore, in the name 
both of our Thistles and of the entire school, I 
request your permission for and co-operation 
with a counter-irritant in the shape of an after- 
piece of some light and even frivolous sort, 
which may serve to refresh those who cannot 
endure the” 

“Nonsense, Foxey!” broke in Verena, unable 
to bear Kate’s aggrieved, puzzled look. “Don’t 
pretend to speechify in the General’s style. 
Listen, Kate, to the whole of it. Some of us 
have made up our minds that you mustn’t try 
to be the only dramatist of Mount Cedar and 


442 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


keep all the laurels to yourself. You have giveu 
us the dramatic fever, and you must take the 
consequences. ’ ^ 

^‘Yes,’’ laughed Margaret, alighting on the 
bars beside Kate. ^‘Your ^Donkey on Parnas- 
sus’ has a whole troop of the long-eared 
brethren tearing at his heels ’ ’ 

^^Like that herd of wild asses that Arminius 
Vambery described his meeting with in Central 
Asia,” interrupted Sophie Ursula. 

^‘Hush, Bear!” went on Verena, ‘‘we must 
proceed to business and try to ‘engineer it on 
true Yankee principles,’ as Foxey says, which 
means go straight ahead. Haven’t I learnt the 
true American language at last? Don’t be 
jealous, Kate ; we ’re not likely to find 
‘A muse of fire, that shall ascend 
The highest heaven of invention,’ 
and cut you out. We only want to get up a 
sort of extravaganza, verse when we can man- 
age it, and prose if we can’t. It’s a Dialogue 
of the Dead, all about blue stockings and great 
men who were Hausteiifels, and learned persons 
of both sexes who made things generally 
unpleasant for everyone. We have a fine list 
of henpecked roosters and rooster-pecked hens, 
who are to appear dressed as ghosts, in white 
sheets, with paper masks, and their names on 
a label round their necks, to prevent confusion. 
They are to belabor each other most beautifully 


A PHANTOM MASQUERADE. 


443 


— strophe and antistrophe, in classic style, if 
you ^11 lend us a hand at the metre when we 
give out. Here they are, ’ ’ and she handed Kate 
a paper in Fanny’s writing: 

GRAND PHANTOM MASQUERADE. 

Mount Cedar Seminary. 

Christmas Theatricals, 18 — . 


SPIRITS represented: 


Socrates. . 
Xanthippe, his Wife. 
Dante Alighieri. 
Gemma, his Wife. 
Beatrice Portinari. 
John Milton. 

Mary, 



Katharine, 

Elizabeth, 

Anne, 

Mary, 

Deborah, 


Queen Elizabeth. 

Lady Jane Grey. 

Torquato Tasso. 

Princess Leonora of Este. 

King Henry VIII and his Six Wives. 

There were many other names on the list, but 
Kate dropped the paper with a peal of laughter* 


444 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


^ ‘ What fun ! Fanny, who are you 1 ’ 
^‘Xanthippe, of course! I have always, as 
you know, felt much sympathy for that much- 
tried and, as I think, misunderstood female. I 
intended, Kate, to have given you the role of 
Dante’s Beatrice, but Verena has chosen it for 
herself. I know you don’t fancy Lady Jane 
Grey, so the best I can do is to put you down 
for the ghost of Milton’s second wife — her name 

was Katharine, you know” 

^ ^ Try it, Kate, ’ ’ broke in Margaret. ‘ ^ Fanny 
has cast me for the ghost of poor Mary Powell, 
which is highly appropriate, for, though I’m 
ready to kneel and worship him as a poet — when 
I think of some things he wrote about women I 
feel inclined to jump up and box his ears. Oh ! 
he might have divorced me in a month, and I 
would have been glad to go !” 

‘‘Yes,” went on Fanny. “He will be well 
provided for between you two and the Bear, who 
will undertake the third wife, and we know will 
give it to her lord with great vigor. The Pearl 
of Pure Wisdom will have a most select and 
congenial triple part, and we shall expect great 
things from each one of you. Julia Max- 
well ’ ’ 

“Julia!” echoed Kate, aghast. 

“Julia!” simultaneously re-echoed Margaret 
and the Little Bear; while Fanny continued, in 
her brisk way, scanning Kate’s countenance. 


A PHANTOM MASQUERADE. 445 

yes, Julia! She is to join forces with us and 
try whether the old feud can be healed. You 
have always hated her worse than anyone else 
did, and hardly given her credit for the brains 
she possesses — and she has a good deal. I know 
you he going to begin talking about her pretend- 
ing to be hypnotized — hut it stands thus : Either 
Julia was really affected somehow — Verena 
can’t tell just how far she may not have mes- 
merized her — in which case she wasn’t to blame 
— or else she shammed it all, as many of us 
think, and kept up the farce with an energy and 
endurance it makes me shiver to imagine. 
Wliichever way it was, it seems to he her parting 
fling, for we all have noticed that she hasn’t 
been half as bad since then, though perhaps you 
may have been too much absorbed in other 
things to have seen it. But you, Kate, ought 
to feel grateful to her, as I said before, for lead- 
ing you to your glory about the robber, and 
your greater glory of that fine, first-class 
fainting fit, which made you so important 
that you were uncommonly amiable for a 
week at least. However, you must remember 
that this is decided upon, and is to be a frolic 
for the whole school. We told Mrs. Hill so 
when we asked permission. You must be will- 
ing to ‘set aside private enmities for the gen- 
eral good, ’ as they say in books, though I know 
it will be a hard pill to swallow.’’ 


446 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR, 


‘‘I suppose you’ve got that whole set of Net- 
tles in it?” groaned Kate, sunk in misery at the 
recollection of those fragments of historical 
tragedy in her pocket, and unutterably thank- 
ful that not a word of their contents had been 
breathed to anyone. She felt completely upset, 
hardly knowing whether to follow Fanny’s 
advice or to let the whole affair alone. ^ ‘ Cecilia 
Morgan, too?” 

^‘Of course. She is Lady Jane G-rey, and 
Julia is Socrates,” said Verena, as though it 
were already settled. ‘Mt’s a ^ grand star com- 
bination’ of all the talent of Mount Cedar. 
Come, Kate, don’t be in the blues! We 
arranged it all before telling you, because we 
didn’t want to interfere with whatever you 
might be getting up. shallow pretence,” 

Kate thought.) You can have your play first, 
and then we’ll have this, winding up with 
a grand hop of the entire school, dressed as 
phantoms, each one assuming a character and 
trying to talk up to it. That will give every- 
body a part, and we ’ll all look exactly the same, 
and fare according to our deserts.” 

‘Mf we’re all to be masked, with nothing to 
distinguish us but a label, the plain ghosts will 
look as well as the handsome ones, and it will 
make death seem like the great leveler he is said 
to be in all the didactic books,” said Kate, 
beginning to recover her spirits. 


A PHANTOM MASQUERADE. 447 

“Decidedly an advantage for many persons/^ 
said Fanny, and the Little Bear laughed. 
“Well, Kate, it’s very good of you to come 
round so easily, for I know this sort of bur- 
lesque thing isn’t in your line. We were afraid 
you might object, and refuse, instead of con- 
senting to personate the shade of Mrs. Milton 
No. 2, and help lead the great spirit about.” 

“Yes, but remember, Fanny,” answered 
Kate, “if you try to give me anything too out- 
rageous to speak. I’ll have no scruples about 
serving you as you and Verena did me, and 
putting in just whatever I choose. ’ ’ 

And so the Phantom Play, with the Phantom 
Party following it, was chosen for the entertain- 
ment which should usher in the Christmas holi- 
days. Kate, as might have been predicted, 
quietly allowed her own plans to drop and men- 
tioned them to no one. The wind had been very 
gently but very completely taken out of her own 
sails, and she felt that the only thing for her to do 
was to turn about her little boat and bid it follow 
in the wake of the many crafts which were speed- 
ing so merrily across the waters. It cost her 
much pain; but, after all, there was a certain 
sense of freedom and relief in not being bound 
to beat out her brains over the woes of the 
young Kakotskys any more. It was a great 
come-down from the delicious stir and impor- 
tance of being the poet-laureate of Mount Cedar, 


448 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


but the December theatricals, after all, were 
conducted with far less show and importance 
than those in June, so she resumed her former 
position of a private though not unhonored 
member of the troupe, and bore the abrupt 
descent from her brief elevation with an out- 
ward equanimity that aroused even Fanny’s 
respect. Julia, as ‘‘Foxey” had foretold, 
proved a most useful and clever ally, writing her 
own part and give many a hint to the others. 
Verena and she had apparently made up their 
former feud, and, at any rate, managed to get 
on in harmony for the nonce. 

Brimful of sauciness, but with much humor 
mingled with its nonsense, the dramatic novelty, 
while necessarily devoid of those scenic aids and 
appurtenances which Kate so dearly loved (the 
dialogues being supposed to take place in some 
vague region represented only by a stage hung 
with light draperies resembling clouds) was 
able, as Fanny said, to stand on its own merits, 
and produced great mirth. All the wit of the 
school being let loose, the cavalier way of 
handling certain eminent persons may be 
imagined, for even Socrates, Dante and Milton, 
with other gentlemen more renowned in the 
undiscriminating and irreverent schoolgirl mind 
for their genius in public than for their domestic 
amiability, or any proper regard for the weaker 
sex at home, held spicy dialogues with the shades 


A PHANTOM MASQUERADE. 449 

of their respective wives and daughters, who, 
acting in the delightful capacities of Devil’s 
Advocates, endeavored, by sundry charges of 
domestic tyranny, to tarnish the glory of their 
laurels. 

Dante’s Beatrice vainly attempted to fill the 
thankless office of a peacemaker, a part which 
the exiled poet’s own spouse assured her she 
never would have undertaken had it been her 
evil destiny to become his wife, with seven 
young Alighieris on her hands to support when 
their sire was banished, instead of being an 
idealized lady love, to be only written about. 
Xanthippe won the hearts and excited the mirth 
of all hearers by the tale of what she had had 
to do and to suffer on behalf of her young ones 
while Socrates was off holding dialogues for 
the benefit of the youth of Athens, a chorus of 
whom, with the philosopher at their head, main- 
tained the opposite side of the argument, vainly 
trying to close Xanthippe’s mouth. Her 
humorous plaints were re-echoed by an indig- 
nant chorus of Milton’s wives and daughters, 
while the great poet’s spirit (led on the right by 
Mrs. Milton No. 2, who provoked No. 1 by occa- 
sionally taking his part, while No. 3, on his left, 
alternately abused him, Mrs. No. 1 and the three 
young ladies) joined Socrates in an eloquent 
diatribe against womankind. Lady Jane Grey, 
attempting to side with Milton, was put 


450 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


down by tbe three Mrs. Miltons, who informed 
her that she ought to have lived a century later 
and have become the better half of their joint 
spouse, inasmuch as only a learned lady like 
herself, who could have treated him to private 
lectures in the choicest Greek and Latin, could 
ever have inspired him with anything like 
respect for the mind of a woman. 

Queen Elizabeth’s ghost, encountering that of 
her royal sire, pursued, like an Orestes by the 
Furies, by the shades of his unfortunate half- 
dozen of wives, undertook to treat him and her 
various stepmothers to her views on the subject 
of matrimony, as exemplified in his own case, 
and as avoided in hers. The whole ended with 
a grand dance of the entire school, assuming 
phantom-characters which afforded ample 
scope for the introduction of a thousand 
impromptu varieties and the sudden develop- 
ment of much unsuspected talent on the part of 
certain shy maidens, hitherto, perhaps, regarded 
as rather slow, and now glad of an opportunity 
for self-assertion under the protection of their 
ghost-like disguise. 

The dancing was nearly over and the white- 
clad spectres did not observe that several of 
their train had already vanished, when Frau 
Schulze (who had supported a character and 
enjoyed it like any girl), advancing to the mid 
die of the room, requested silence. 


A PHANTOM MASQUERADE. 


45J 


They fancied her about to make a speech, and 
withdrew in groups to either side. She said 
nothing; but, through the hall door of the long 
parlor, they saw entering five figures, no longer 
phantoms of illustrious mortals, but Thistles, 
in gay dresses, with allegorical devices befitting 
the Spirit of the Coming Year (Fanny Fox), 
followed by the Four Seasons — Verena, Mar- 
garet, Sophie Ursula and Kate. 

The Seasons silently ranged themselves 
behind their leader, while Fanny, solemnly 
taking her stand in the midst, glanced round 
upon the surprised assemblage with her keen, 
bright eyes, and began : 

‘^Ladies and gentlemen: (Herr Schulze, 
almost the only man present, here made a digni- 
fied bow.) It seems hardly fitting that a year 
like this, so soon to close, should pass from our 
school history without its record — without some 
words of mingled praise and blame for our own 
doings — our studious conduct, or our follies — 
and some hopeful prophecy for the new year we 
shall enter upon.’’ 

Here she made a slight pause and s.ome few 
listeners were half afraid that ‘‘Foxey” might 
be going to deviate so far from her usual line 
as to attempt a short sermon; but she again 
glanced round, and went on: 

‘^We have had more novelty, more variety, 
more enjoyment than usual, and — let us hon- 


452 


THE THISTLES OF MOUNT CEDAR. 


estly grieve to add — have doubtless caused our 
elders more trouble and uneasiness than when 
we were younger, and bad not so much individu- 
ality (Miss Clive, slow to seize the comic side 
of anything, drew herself up and knitted her 
beautiful black brows as she stood beside the 
arm-chair of Mrs. Hill, whose face fairly 
beamed with smiles at these frank avowals, 
encouraging the orator to proceed). Old, fool- 
ish feuds have been healed (Julia, from under 
her white mask, nodded meaningly to Verena, 
decked as Autumn, opposite). Fresh depar- 
tures have been made in the line of our theatri- 
cals, and with unhoped-for success. (A com- 
pliment to Kate in particular, and the whole 
array of eager ghosts.) We have had our wor- 
ries. Mistakes have sometimes marred our 
best and most innocent designs. (A hidden 
reference, understood by comparatively few, to 
Augustine Livingstone’s luckless serenade.) 
Perhaps it may be granted to the Spirit of the 
Coming Year to prophesy a better state of 
things. It would he idle to venture to predict 
what destiny may have in store for us who are 
gathered here to-night. ’ ’ 

‘^We will not try to bid farewell in the words 
of a valedictory. (This, intended for a covert 
fling at the would-be sad or solemn style affected 
by sundry valedictorians, and which Grace 
Howard’s parting effort had done much to bring 


A PHANTOM MASQUERADE. 453 

into disrepute by its liveliness and good sense, 
caused a hearty laugh, while Herr Schulze 
waved his hand, exclaiming, ^^Hoch! — hear, 
hear ! ’ But, in general terms, we may be per- 
mitted to point towards a gradual settling down 
of certain too-etfervescent spirits, to a series 
of well-earned prizes, of brilliant graduations — 
and in due time, as Shakespeare says, of 
‘Honor, riches, marriage blessing,’ 
for many in the future (interpreted by a few as 
referring to their tenacious belief in a success- 
ful ending to the cruelly interrupted romance 
of the artist and Miss Clive). And so — with 
thanks to all who have helped us to be merry 
here to-night, and at other times, and heartfelt 
desire for pardon for our failings, let us close 
this, the last frolic of our term, with hopeful 
auguries of equal happiness, with many frolics, 
but with wiser conduct and more steady im- 
provement for the ‘Thistles of Mount Cedar,’ 
and for all, in the year that shall soon be 
begun.” 

Thus Fanny ended her prophecy ; and in other 
pages we may see in what measure it was to be 
fulfilled. 


[the end.] 


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